Breathing Room
by OldMondlerLover
Summary: <html><head></head>Another Mondler AU. More is explained in the author's note at the end of the first chapter, but initially this story is packed with pre-Mondler moments. The whole gang is a part of this one, too. I really hope you enjoy it! And, yes, I need to stop saying that I am taking a break. It seems that I can't. *COMPLETE - EPILOGUE UP*</html>
1. Chapter 1

"How on Earth did you end up on a plane to Yemen, Chandler?!" Rachel was dumbfounded.

"She wouldn't leave the gate!" he said, arms flailing about. "She wouldn't leave until she saw me 'take off.'"

"Oh my God!" Ross said, shaking his head and chuckling.

"That was it? That was your 'pre-emptive strike?'" Rachel asked, incredulous.

Joey couldn't stop laughing.

"Dude, you are such a pansy," he said between fits of laughter.

"He's right," Phoebe said, giggling and pointing to Joey. "You really never will break up with her…"

Chandler sighed heavily and plopped down on he and Joey's couch in Apartment 20.

It had been an absolutely hellish 36 hours - making the flight to Yemen and back, spending the night at the airport in a foreign country he could barely find on a map.

It was just this side of a miracle that he made it back to New York in one piece. Whether or not every last one of his earthly possessions would was another matter entirely.

And at the end of it all, he still hadn't technically broken up with Janice.

Oh dear God.

"You're back!" Monica proclaimed spotting Chandler as she came through the apartment door. "Sample any fine Yemen cuisine?"

"Go ahead, joke away," he said, with a grimace. "Splash around in the pool of my misery."

"No time for that!" Monica said excitedly with a wave of her hand. "You guys will never guess what happened at work today."

"Alfredo this time?" Ross guessed.

"Tarter sauce on the toilet seat?" Chandler offered.

"Ohh, ohh," Rachel raised her hand enthusiastically. "They changed the locks to the walk-in freezer again?"

Monica sighed. It was no secret that her staff at Alessandro's hated her, that's for sure.

"No, they were actually cheering today," she said.

"Did you quit?" Phoebe asked.

Monica rolled her eyes.

"Not exactly, but I won't be there for a while," she said, with a smile.

"What's going on?" Ross asked.

"It's unbelievable…so a couple weeks ago my boss had these visitors come in and I made some of my original recipes," she said excitedly and very quickly. "I thought they were restaurant reviewers or something but, no…"

She stopped and gasped.

"Breathe, Mon," Chandler said, smirking.

She waved her hand at him and took a deep breath.

"Anyway, my boss announced to the _whole staff_ that he'd submitted some of my recipes to this culinary academy for up and coming chefs and those guys were from the academy, and…" she started bouncing up and down, "…they picked me!"

There was a chorus of "yays" and "good jobs" all around.

"So _that's_ why they were cheering?" Phoebe nodded, as though trying to convince everyone else.

"Of course it was," Ross said, defending his sister.

"That's amazing!" Rachel said, "So what does that mean? Where's the cooking school?"

"Culinary academy," she corrected, then paused for dramatic effect. "It means I am one of 30 chefs selected to attend the prestigious Tuscan Culinary Academy's top flight chef program in Tuscany, Italy!"

"Oh my God," Ross said, standing up from a barca lounger to hug his little sister. "That's amazing, Mon."

"Italy?" Rachel said. "You're…you're going to Italy?"

"That's great - home of my people," Joey said nodding and pounding his chest.

"How long is the program?" Phoebe said, giving Monica a hug.

And here was the hard part.

Monica twisted a ring around her finger.

"Um…a year," she grimaced.

"A year?!" Chandler said as the rest of the gang let out a collective "oh", then he added with a grin. "You ought to be able to run your own conglomerate of Olive Garden franchises when you're done."

"Yeah," she said, starting to feel a little nervous. She was excited, honored, but also overwhelmed. "Actually…um…after I complete this program there's a chance I…um…may not come back to New York."

"What?!" "Whoa…?" "Monica?!" they all said at the same time.

"I know," she sighed, dropping her hands to her sides. "I know but…but this is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity and…and chefs from this academy are offered jobs all over the world…"

"You won't be here when the babies are born," Phoebe said, placing a hand on her stomach.

"Yeah and how…how am I gonna get our apartment back from these guys all by myself," Rachel said, a sudden look of horror coming over her face. "I have to live in that place all by myself!"

"You don't have to, baby," Joey said in his best "how you doin'" voice, earning a punch in the arm from Rachel. "Oww!"

"Wow, Mon," Ross said. "Have you told Mom and Dad? They are gonna be…be…hummm…that's a long time to be gone..."

Monica shook her head and looked at her friends - voicing the same insecurities she'd had running around in her own mind since she'd heard the news.

It was such a huge, surprising shock, she'd barely had time to digest any of it. Maybe, she thought, maybe it _was_ just too big…

Chandler watched as Monica's face started to fall.

"I think it's great," he blurted out, earning death stares from everyone who turned to him, except Monica - whose face broke into a big smile.

"It is," he said, walking over to put a hand over her shoulder, smiling at her. "It's a great thing and you should be proud of yourself. You've worked really hard for something like this."

She could have kissed him.

Instead she wrapped her arms around his waist and laid her head on his chest, nearly in tears as the rest of their friends looked around feeling guilty.

"Thank you, Chandler," she whispered, looking up at him. He winked at her and stepped back.

"We should celebrate," he said with a clap. "Italian anyone?"

"Oh, I can't," Ross said, looking at his watch. "Emily and I have plans."

"Really, Ross, it's for your sister!" Rachel said, crossing her arms, annoyed at Ross and…Emily.

"Yeah, yeah, you're right…" Ross said.

"Bring her along," Chandler said, shrugging. "It would give us a chance to get to know her better. I mean we're gonna need a replacement part soon…"

"Chandler!" Rachel said, punching him.

"Stop hitting…us," Chandler whined to Rachel, glancing at Joey.

"Do you mind?" Ross said to Monica.

"Of course not," she said. "I'd love it if you did."

"I'll go call her," Ross said as he picked up the phone and walked into Chandler's bedroom, closing the door.

Rachel shot Monica a look, but quickly recovered.

"I'm gonna go change," she said, taking off for Apartment 19 as Joey went into his room to change, too.

"I'll come, too," said Phoebe, following Rachel to the door. "Mon?"

"Be there in a minute."

The women left and Monica turned to Chandler.

"Thank you," she said, "thank you for being so supportive. You're such a good friend."

"Ah," he said, his cheeks turning a little pink, shrugging slightly. "You haven't poisoned me yet so I guess you deserve it."

"Omph," she said playfully punching him in the chest. She grinned at him.

"See you in a few," she said giving him a smile as they walked toward the door.

He grinned back and then closed the door behind her.

Chandler turned around and stared at the empty living room, laying his head back against the magna-doodle.

He frowned to himself, pushed off the door and went into the bathroom to shower for the first time since he'd left for Yemen.

###

"Oh, you'll adore Tuscany," Emily effused at Monica's celebratory dinner. "It is certainly one of the most amazing places in all of Europe - food, wine, and the men…"

"Really?" Monica said, her eyes lighting up.

"Well, she hasn't had a lot of luck in New York, maybe another continent _would_ help," Chandler deadpanned.

Monica shot him a look while everyone laughed.

"Do…do many people speak English?" she asked. She just had so many questions, many of which would be answered in the days to come, but she wanted to learn all she could right away. "I mean, I really don't know any Italian…"

"Of course," Emily said, with a wave of her hand. "Many Europeans speak English fluently."

Monica took a deep breath. She was getting more and more excited about this adventure as she kept talking to Emily. Everyone joined in the conversation about Italy. Joey was demonstrating his vast knowledge of all things pizza, Rachel was talking about the fashions in Milan, Ross expounded on the ruins of the Roman coliseum and Phoebe spoke in awe of the catacombs in Rome.

And Chandler…Chandler was taking it all in, and trying not to fall asleep.

It had been a LONG trip to Yemen.

After the third bottle of wine was consumed by the table, Chandler stifled a yawn.

"Man," he said, shaking his head and opening his eyes wide for a moment. "I'm really sorry but I gotta go. Mon, I'm really happy for you."

She smiled at him, feeling a little guilty about how tired he looked.

"Oh, we can all go…" she started.

"No, no stay and enjoy," he said. "I'll catch you tomorrow."

After everyone said goodbye Chandler went to pay his part of the bill, and Monica's, and walked out the door. It was a long-ish walk back to the apartment so he decided to wait a couple minutes for a cab to come by.

Yawning again he glanced in the window of the restaurant and saw the gang still deep in conversation about the exciting news.

He watched Monica - her eyes wide open, her smile warm when she wasn't talking a mile a minute - looking every bit like an excited school girl taking her first field trip.

She caught his eye through the glass and smiled at him.

Their eyes locked for a couple moments.

Finally he waved to her as he saw a cab pull up in the reflection of the window out of the corner of his eye.

He turned around and flagged it down, then headed for home.

_**NOTE: Okay…so now I must concede that the best way to get my creative juices flowing again is to say I'm going on to be "on a break!" Geez! This story would Not. Leave. Me. Alone. until I got it out…another Season 4/5 AU (I'm in love with those seasons, sorry). I'm not gonna say there will be no angst, but it won't be as heartbreaking as my first AU - I promise. For this story I'm gonna say Chandler went to Yemen sometime in late August, just cause I can, and the rest goes from there. Storylines for the gang basically follow those seasons, except when they don't. I really hope you enjoy this little journey to Mondler-Land. :) And, yes, we writers love reviews, even if it's just a simple word or two. What I can't promise is how fast I'll update, but I will never leave a story unfinished. Hope you stick with it. Thank you!**_


	2. Chapter 2

"Monica, don't show her the one from computer camp," Ross said, walking over to the window where Emily, Monica, Joey and Phoebe were huddled around an old photo album.

"Oh, I think it's adorable," Emily said, smiling sweetly at him, as Monica laughed and stood up.

Emily's surprise - and fake - going away party had finally died down, everyone completely amused and somewhat mortified by the antics of Rachel and her desperate attempts to draw Joshua's attention to her.

Phoebe and Joey were engrossed in the album with Emily, so Monica took the opportunity to talk to her brother.

"She really, really likes you," she said with a smile, steering him toward the kitchen.

He shrugged.

"I really, really like her, too," he sighed, looking over at Emily. "I mean, she's so great. I could completely see myself…but, no. It's two weeks. We always knew it was only two weeks."

"Ross, someone who is enthralled by your pictures from computer camp isn't in it for two weeks!"

"That's what Rachel said."

"Well, at least she made _some_ sense tonight," she said opening her eyes wide at him.

"I know," he chuckled, lightly, shaking his head.

"Anyway, I think Emily's in it for the long haul," she said, quietly. "She was asking so many questions. I know it's quick but I…I think she really cares about you."

"I care about her, too," he said, looking over at her. Emily caught his eye and smiled at him.

Monica smirked, and sighed, "it's my fantasy…"

"Um, what's your fantasy?"

"You know, the ultimate fantasy - meeting a stranger from another country and falling madly in love, then spending the rest of your lives together," she said dreamily. "It's so romantic."

"So _that's_ why you're going to Italy," he teased.

"No!" she playfully smacked him. "But, ya know, a girl can dream."

Ross took a swig of beer as Monica looked at him expectantly.

"I don't know…"

"Do you love her?"

He hesitated.

"I don't know, maybe…it's been two weeks…"

"Tell her," she said. "Rachel's, ya know, 'night' is over (he rolled his eyes)…take her out now, for drinks or whatever, and talk to her."

"Should I?"

"What do you have to lose?" Monica implored. "If she doesn't feel the same way then, ya know, she goes home and you've only invested two weeks, but, if she does…"

"OK," he said, his confidence growing. "OK, I'll do it."

"Yay!" she said, a bright smile on her face.

He kissed Monica's cheek and walked over to Emily. Monica smiled after him then turned as Chandler came back in after taking the trash out.

"She got him."

"Whatta mean?"

"Cheerleader uniform worked," he said, shaking his head. "Fat lip and all, she's across the hall with him now."

"You have _got_ to be kidding me!" she said, staring at him in disbelief.

"She said it works every time."

"I know!" Monica said, folding her arms with a little pout. "Man, it always has."

"Well, she certainly made an idiot out of herself, so the cheerleader fantasy is the only explanation," he said as he washed his hands at the sink. Monica grinned.

"We're gonna take off now," Ross said, smiling as Emily beamed at Monica.

"Thank you so much for hosting, this was wonderful," she said to Chandler.

"No problem," he said, his lopsided grin on his face, "there was literally _nothing_ to it."

Ross shot him a look as Monica hugged them both goodbye and they walked out the door.

Joey and Phoebe sat on the couch and turned on the TV while Monica reached up to take down the Bon Voyage sign.

Chandler grabbed her hand.

"Leave it - we'll be throwing yours in a couple days," he said. "Rachel's impromptu meltdown just saved me from buying the decorations."

She grinned then bit her lip.

"Yeah, I guess you're right," she said quietly, picking up random cups that sat on the foosball table and blinking back tears.

"Hey," he said quietly as he watched her demeanor change. "You OK?"

"Yeah," she said, her voice thick. "Yeah, it's just…it's hard to think about…leaving for a whole year…"

She put the cups down by the sink and hugged her arms around herself.

"I know," he said as he put a hand on her shoulder.

Monica quickly busied herself with the other dishes at the sink.

"I mean I'm excited and everything it's just," she sighed heavily as he put a hand on each shoulder, "a little overwhelming, that's all. The classes sound really grueling and I love to cook and I hope I _still_ love to cook when it's over and…and…"

"And you'll kick its ass," he said, against her hair. She turned to face him and looked up into his grinning face.

"You're gonna do great," he said, rubbing her arms for a moment. "The 'elite' chefs at Academy de Frou-Frou are gonna learn how to cook not only the right way, but the Monica-way."

She giggled a little, then quickly stood on her tip-toes and kissed his cheek.

"How do you do it?" she smiled, shaking her head.

"I put the 'de' between 'academy' and 'frou-frou'," he said. "It's a simple language, really."

She smirked at him and shook her head.

"Still not gonna be easy, though," she said, as he took a half step to the side and reached up over her head.

"I know, but it'll be OK," he said, grabbing another garbage bag off a shelf. "You wouldn't want it to be easy, anyway. You'd be bored."

She let out a short laugh as she resumed cleaning up the cups, knowing he was absolutely right.

###

"I guess this is it," Phoebe said as she hugged Monica one more time.

"Yep," she said softly, hugging her back, then patting her belly she added. "You be good in there for your Aunt Phoebe."

She and Phoebe looked at each other and grinned softly.

_"Final boarding call, Flight 1083 to London, continuing to Florence, Gate 39D, now boarding, final call."_

Jack gave his daughter one last hug as Judy dabbed at her tears with a handkerchief. Judy, Phoebe, Rachel and Monica were all crying - Joey wasn't doing much better. Ross kept clearing his throat.

Chandler's eyes were glistening.

"OK," Monica said, stepping back from her parents and looking around to her friends. She took a deep breath. "I really gotta go. I love you, all of you."

"We love you," Joey said, and added with a high-pitched whine, "and your food..."

"Joey!" Ross said as Monica grinned and moved toward the gate.

"Yes, he's destined to turn into a 98-pound weakling," Chandler said, patting Joey's shoulder. "I'm sure he'll have no one else's food to steal."

"Won't be as good," he moaned, turning to Chandler, who hugged him, patting him on the back.

"There, there," Chandler said, rolling his watery eyes at Monica.

She laughed through her tears. She squeezed hands with Rachel, having given everyone a hug and goodbye earlier, and handed her ticket to the attendant.

Monica turned and waved goodbye again, scanning the faces of her family and friends.

The last set of eyes she met were Chandler's.

He smiled gently at her, his eyes bright, and gave her a thumbs-up sign. A lump formed in her throat at the gesture as she tried to smile back - not able to pull her gaze away from his.

"Miss?" the attendant said.

Monica blinked and briefly looked at the woman, then she gave one last wave and walked to the plane.

'I guess we…can go," Ross said, sadly, as his sister disappeared down the gateway.

"I want to see her take off…Jack?" Judy turned to her husband. He nodded and led them to a row of chairs in front of the big glass window - Ross, Rachel, Joey and Phoebe following behind.

Chandler buried his hands in his jeans pockets as he watched the attendant close the door and walk away from the gate.

Slowly he walked over to the seats and stood behind them, staring at the airplane but not really seeing it.

His eyes were blurry…and his heart was pounding.

On the plane Monica leaned her head back against the seat and closed her eyes, wiping the remaining tears off her face.

She was ready to do this. She took a deep breath, trying to think of the opportunity ahead…and not the people that she'd just left behind.

Flight attendants went up and down the aisles for a couple minutes before being satisfied that the passengers were ready for takeoff.

They gave each other a "thumbs-up."

And for some inexplicable reason, her eyes welled up once again.

_**NOTE: I know this chapter is a little shorter, but hopefully it packed a little punch. There's a lot of comings and goings in future chapters and I didn't want to get bogged down in too many, so you're just gonna have to imagine Monica's going-away party and goodbye hugs in this chapter. :) Future installments are looking much longer…thanks for your reviews :)**_


	3. Chapter 3

Monica already loved Florence, though so far she'd seen very little of it.

She'd spent the last hour trying to find places in the nooks and crannies of her bedroom for everything she'd brought along with her.

Finally satisfied with her set up she took a moment to look around.

The stone house she was quartered in was small, but it had all the basics - kitchen, bathroom, a tiny living area and two very tiny bedrooms. But what it lacked in space it made up for in beauty.

This place would be "home" for the next year - and that thought scared and thrilled her at the same time.

It was a couple days before she would get started in the academy program and she was thankful for it.

The area where the academy had placed the students was amazing. It was in a cluster of stone houses along a maze of narrow, winding stone streets. Those streets all led to various markets in all directions. The "training" restaurant where she and her fellow chefs would spend long hours learning the tricks of the culinary trade was within walking distance.

Having come from New York, she wasn't too shell shocked by the close quarters and never-ending stream of hustle and bustle, but the sheer beauty of the art and architecture of the city simply took her breath away.

Though the tourism business in the Tuscan region never ended, it slowed down in the fall, she was told. At least there would be some breathing room, she thought.

Monica opened two long, thin floor-to-wall doors and stepped out onto the small plant balcony from her bedroom, leaning against the curving wrought iron rail around it. She breathed in.

"Wow..." she whispered at the classic Italian view before her.

"Aw…I thought I'd have ya beat!"

Monica turned her head and smiled.

"Not a chance."

She'd met her housemate and fellow chef, Vanessa Reed from Dallas, just that morning. They'd immediately hit it off.

Vanessa was a red-haired Texan; a little shorter than Monica, about her age and 90 pounds soaking wet, but she was a pistol. Her hair matched her personality. She seemed quick to say whatever was on her mind, but with an easy smile to let you know she had a good heart behind her piercing light-brown eyes.

And she was a neat-freak, too, so Monica was confident they'd get along just fine.

Monica stepped back in off the balcony, smiling as Vanessa took an appreciative glance around the room.

Her eyes fell on one of the photos in a frame Monica had placed on top of the small dresser.

"Are these the friends you were talking about?" Vanessa asked, picking up the photo.

"Yeah."

"Shame y'all are so darned ugly," she said, with a grin. "Damn, y'all got some fine-looking men in New York!"

Monica let out a small snort.

"That was taken this summer in Central Park," she said, gazing at the photo. It was a favorite of hers. Everyone had their arms wrapped around each other in a line - Phoebe, Rachel, Joey and Ross. Chandler had his hand on Ross' shoulder, but Monica had both arms wrapped around Chandler's waist, squeezed between him and Ross. Everyone was smiling, happily looking at the camera.

"Some tourists had asked us to take their photo and Chandler made them return the favor," she explained. "We never expected to see it but they'd asked for an address so Chandler gave them the address to his office. About a month later the negative came in the mail."

"Whatta know, good folks still exist," she said, nudging Monica playfully. "So who's who?"

"Well, this is Phoebe," Monica pointed. "She was my roommate before Rachel, who I've known since I was kid. She's my best friend. That's my brother, Ross, and Joey and Chandler live across the hall. Chandler was my brother's roommate in college."

"Everybody single?" she said, arching an eyebrow.

"Ross is dating a woman named Emily from London and it actually seems pretty serious," she said. "Joey…"

"He's a hottie," Vanessa said, smirking. "I'd take a one-night rodeo from him any day."

Monica stifled a giggle.

"That's about all you'd get," she said, rolling her eyes a little. "He's not the brightest bulb but he has a heart of gold - and a string of girlfriends about a mile long."

Vanessa nodded.

"I know the type," she pointed to Chandler. "What about Mr. Blue Eyes y'all wrapped around there? He's a cutie."

"That's Chandler."

"He's yours?"

"What?! No!" Monica said, opening her eyes wide. "He's just a friend - a best friend - my best guy friend, but…a friend."

"Is he taken?"

"No."

"Gay?"

Monica couldn't help but smile at that.

"No."

"What's wrong with him?"

"Nothing," Monica said, then added more convincingly off Vanessa's skeptical look. "No, really, nothing! He's…sweet and smart and funny in a sarcastic kind of way. He's just…he's Chandler."

Vanessa cocked her head to one side, still looking at the photo.

"Sweet, smart, funny and good lookin'? I can see why you don't want to date him," she said with an exaggerated drawl and a sarcasm that would have made Chandler proud.

She placed the picture frame back on the dresser.

"I think I could look into those blue eyes all day," she sighed, then she turned to Monica. "Anyway, wanna find some supper?"

"S…sure, um, just let me get a sweater."

"Oh, fine idea," Vanessa said as she left to go to her room.

Monica opened her dresser drawer and grabbed a sweater, then sat at the edge of the bed and looked at the photo.

Her eyes landed on Chandler's smiling face.

_Sweet, smart, funny and good looking…_

_I could look into those blue eyes all day…_

"You ready to go?" Vanessa said from the small hall that separated the two rooms.

Monica shook her head a moment and stood up.

"Yeah, let's go."

###

"Then it was like they had completely, I don't know, _forgotten_ about the Jurassic period and the bone…"

Chandler's eyes glazed over as he sat in the chair by the little table at the end of the orange sofa.

He glanced at Joey in the chair opposite his, who was half asleep; then at Phoebe and Rachel at the far end of the couch, who were trying hard to hide the fact that they were having their own private conversation and not listening to Ross at all.

That left Chandler as the only "attentive" listener.

Oh joy.

He'd been nodding and smiling for nearly 10 minutes, desperately wishing Monica was there.

A week ago Monica would have been there, and they would have exchanged at least a half-dozen "oh-my-god-is-he-done-yet" glances and an eye roll or two.

She may have even been able to get her brother to change the subject.

But, nooo, she wasn't there. She'd left him to fend for himself in the pit of Jurassic hell he'd fallen into.

Slowly he picked up the newspaper next to him on the table and started to scan it, hoping Ross would take the hint. It didn't work.

"Oww," Phoebe said suddenly, quickly putting her hand to her stomach.

That worked.

"What?" Joey said, eyes suddenly wide open.

"The babies are kicking me, each other," she said, moving her hands along her ever growing belly. "Everywhere."

Suddenly four more sets of hands were on her, and they could all feel the babies moving around and kicking.

"That's so incredible, Pheebs," Rachel said, her eyes lighting up.

"Man, do they have enough room in there?" Joey asked.

"The human body is an amazing thing, biologically speaking…" Ross started.

"Oh God, babies close your ears," Chandler said, quickly.

Ross closed his mouth.

"Aw…Monica would love this," Rachel said, with a little frown as she patted Phoebe's belly again.

'"I know," Phoebe said, her frown matching Rachel's. "I keep thinking how she's just missing _everything_."

"Yes," Chandler said, looking sarcastically wistful. "Babies kicking, dinosaurs dying, Ross talking us all into early graves…"

Ross smirked at him.

"I don't have to take this abuse," he said, standing. "I'm going to pick up Emily at the airport. You know, my girlfriend, _Emily_. She doesn't mind my stories."

"God bless the English lass," Chandler said with his lopsided grin and a shake of his head.

"What time is it?" a groggy Joey asked.

"5:45," Ross said, steps away from the front door.

"Oh, man," he said, jumping up out of his chair. "I have an audition."

He quickly followed Ross out the door.

"I'm going, too," Phoebe said as Rachel helped heave her off the sofa. "Having World War III erupt in your uterus is really tiring."

Chandler nodded as Phoebe waddled to the door and Rachel took their coffee cups to the counter.

"Whatcha got goin' on tonight, Rach?" he asked.

"Joshua is taking me to dinner at 7," she said, dramatically.

"In your cheerleader outfit," he said, cocking an eyebrow.

"No longer needed," she said, cocking an eyebrow back at him. He grinned.

"Touché," he nodded.

"See ya, Chandler," she said, as she, too, walked out the door.

He took a long look at the empty couch in front of him and sighed, turning the page over in the newspaper to work on the crossword puzzle.

###

Chandler jerked awake and looked around, a little disoriented.

He was in his chair and the TV was still on. What had been a rerun of Baywatch had at some point late in the night turned into a very cheesy 70s sci-fi flick with laser guns and sound-effect explosions.

It must have been what woke him up, and normally it would have been right up his alley.

Not tonight.

He grabbed the remote and turned the TV off.

Glancing at his watch he groaned. It was almost 2 a.m.

He should have been in bed at least three hours ago. He had a meeting in the morning.

And he hadn't been sleeping well. He'd chalked it up to Joey's new penchant for snoring - a very unwelcome development.

But it was more than that.

When he'd wake up in the middle of the night he'd start thinking about falling back to sleep.

But falling back to sleep meant waking up again - and the mornings were…different now.

It took him three days to stop going across the hall to steal supplies for breakfast.

Three days and one early-morning death-stare from Rachel.

Chandler ran his hands over his face and stopped midway as a loud, ungodly noise coming from Joey's room.

And Joey was alone tonight.

"Urgh…" he groaned, pushing the barca lounger back, hands still over his face.

He felt himself falling back to sleep.

He moaned, shaking himself awake, and drug his body into a standing position, making his way to the bathroom.

As he took off his watch he looked at it closely one more time before putting it on the vanity as he turned on the water.

He read the letters in the corner.

"WED"

It was Wednesday.

That meant he'd fallen asleep in his chair out in the living room on a Tuesday night.

And all of a sudden he knew why.

She had always worked late on Tuesdays and he realized, right then, that he usually fell asleep in his chair on Tuesdays.

He'd wake up when he heard her enter her apartment about 12:30 in the morning.

He hadn't realized he was doing it - waiting to hear her come home - until tonight.

But that's what he'd been doing.

And there was no reason to do it anymore - at least for a year.

Probably more.

He shuddered a little - he didn't want to think about that.

He scooped up the lukewarm water in both hands and splashed some on his face.

Grabbing a towel he caught his reflection in the mirror.

He stared at the tired man looking back at him with the sad expression in his eyes.

And it hit him like a hammer.

"Wow," he muttered, shaking his head and putting toothpaste on his toothbrush.

It didn't matter what time it was - in the morning, at the coffee house, in the middle of the night.

He just really missed her.

He missed Monica.

_**NOTE: Many, many thanks for your reviews - and thank you to the women who have helped me travel to Italy ;)**_


	4. Chapter 4

"Mon, you gotta help me!" came the desperate voice over the phone.

"Chandler, it's spaghetti," Monica said, trying not to laugh. "Really, it's not that difficult. Jar of sauce? Box of noodles?"

"Of course I can do sauce and noodles," she could practically hear his eyes roll. "I want it to be…better than that."

"Ouuu…this must be serious…"

"Well, it _is_ a third date."

"Didn't you already sleep with her? This is the screamer, right?"

"Marjorie and you're not _helping_," Chandler said, crossing his arms and staring helplessly at the kitchen. "My phone bill - and my _head_ - are about to explode."

"OK, OK sorry," Monica said, trying to swallow a yawn. Didn't the man know it was 11:30 p.m. in Italy? "OK, look, can you go over to…my…Rachel's?"

"Yeah," he said as she heard him open the apartment door.

"OK, bottom shelf in the far left cabinet…"

"Bottom shelf. Left cabinet," he repeated.

"My box of recipes…"

"Got it!"

"OK, there is a recipe for a simple spaghetti sauce that is a little more than what you'd find in a jar," she said.

"Under what?'

"It's in alphabetical order."

"_Your_ alphabetical order," he sighed. She could hear him riffling through the box.

"Under 'S'," she said, lying back in bed and closing her eyes.

"Spaghetti? Sauce?"

"Sauce…"

"OK," he said as he started to hum the theme from "Gilligan's Island." Monica grinned.

"Ah, found one," he said. "Peppers, onions - ah, maybe not - OK, tomatoes…yeah, yeah this'll work!"

"Happy?"

"Thank you Madam Chef!" he said, smiling.

"Ugh…I'm just a lowly 'cook', just ask our instructors," she moaned. Almost four weeks in and the cooking academy was more like a military boat camp. The students weren't chefs - they were "barely cooks" they were told repeatedly. And she had to be up at 5:30 a.m. to find the "most acceptable" produce at the open market. "Six days a week, 10 hours a day. My feet are killing me."

"That bad, huh?" he said, as she heard him close the cabinet door.

"It's kicking my ass, Chandler," she conceded.

"Kick it back," she could hear him smiling.

She yawned.

"Sorry, I know it's late over there," he said with a wince.

"That's OK," she said. "By the way, since when are you cooking dinner for a date?"

"Ah…since you aren't here to do it for me…"

"Hummm," she said, sleepily. "Bing, those recipes better be back where they belong when you're done!"

"I promise that sometime in the next year I will put them _right_ back where they belong," he said, and she could almost see his lopsided grin come over his face. "Goodnight, Mon."

She opened her eyes.

"Goodnight, Chandler."

She hung up the phone next to her bed and clutched a pillow, turning onto her side and glancing at the picture on her dresser reflected in the moonlight.

She sighed.

"Goodnight," she whispered.

###

"This looks wonderful," Marjorie said, with a smile to Chandler as they sat down on the little table and chairs Chandler had set up on the balcony. "I didn't know you could cook."

"Oh, you haven't tried it yet, so don't get too excited," he said, with a grin, as he poured the wine. "It smells good because it's Monica's recipe."

"Monica? Your friend in Italy?"

"Yeah," he said, sheepishly. "If she was here she would have made this for me and it would be better, but dig in."

She took a bite. "Wow, really good, Chandler."

"Yeah?" he said, taking a bite himself. " Hummm…not bad."

"I guess this means you can follow directions."

"Yes, well, Monica does give detailed instruction," he put his fork down as his face turned a little red.

"What?"

"Ah…nothing, nothing."

"No, what? Tell me…" she smiled at him.

Chandler looked at Marjorie. He was feeling pretty lonely when luck seemed to smile on him at the sleep clinic and Joey fell asleep in the waiting room. Marjorie had actually agreed to go out with him and they'd hit it off pretty well. The first date went great, despite her screaming in her sleep.

And she was attractive - blond, pretty, with a lovely smile - but he could honestly say that he wasn't crazy about her.

She seemed nice enough, but also kinda boring.

Maybe, he thought, he could spice things up a bit, if she took the bait.

"Um," he said, raising an eyebrow at her. "Let's just say she's given me lots of instruction on various…ah…topics."

"Oh," she said, confused, then it dawned on her. "Oh! Oh…um…did you date her?"

"No!" he said, almost choking on his forkful of spaghetti. "No, she just…made a sketch once…"

He started squirming, now almost wishing he hadn't brought it up.

She wrinkled her nose.

"Really?" she said, a hint of disgust on her face. "That's kinda…weird."

"I guess," he shrugged, disappointed but not surprised that she didn't take the bait. "We're pretty close."

"I guess so," she said, sitting up a little more in her seat, anxious to change the subject. "So, how was work today?"

And with that he wanted to stab himself in the eye with his fork.

###

"He hates me, Vanessa," Monica moaned, feet up on the little kitchen bench at their house.

"He hates all of us, honey," she said, bringing over the box of Twinkies her mom had sent from Texas. Those and a glass of wine were lunch. They were on an hour break before heading back to "that beautiful hell hole," as Vanessa called it. The school's kitchen was pristine, huge and gorgeous, with everything a chef could want.

It didn't look like a prison but it sure felt like one.

The dean of the program was relentless - the produce was never good enough, the spice was too much or not enough, the food the students created was 'rubbish'.

Monica could take a lot of punishment but she thought Dean Turrico was being completely unreasonable. She knew the program was going to be tough, but she ended up missing the "warmth" of her staff at Alessandro's on days like this.

She missed her friends at home almost more than she could bear.

Monica felt like she hadn't laughed in a month, unless she called home. And she always felt a stab of homesickness when she hung up the phone.

It was getting worse and worse as the days passed, not better like it was supposed to.

She sighed.

They each stuffed half a Twinkie in their mouth.

"We better all end up with the best jobs in the world after all this damned torture," Vanessa said, putting the box of Twinkies back. "Ugh, I smell like garlic."

Vanessa had had a horrible morning, accidently spilling a cooling marinated garlic sauce all down the front of her smock.

"I need a shower," she said, heading behind the kitchen wall to the small bathroom.

Monica nodded and grabbed an apple.

"I'm gonna lay down," she called and Vanessa waved her hand.

Monica chomped on her apple as she went up to her room.

She sat the core down on a paper napkin on the dresser and picked up the phone.

###

Chandler's heart raced as he heard the phone ring. He glanced at the clock.

Only one person could be calling him at 6:07 a.m. On a Saturday.

He grabbed the receiver and went to say "hello" until he saw Marjorie at the far side of the bed.

He'd forgotten she was there.

Chandler grabbed his robe and quietly made his way out to the living room.

"Hold on," he said quickly into the receiver, as he threw his robe on and grabbed a blanket, climbing out onto the balcony just as the sun was peaking up on the horizon.

"Mon?" he said. "Is everything OK?"

"No," she said, her anger rising. "He hates me, Chandler."

"The instructor guy?" he said, covering a yawn with his hand. "Tony? Terry? Rico Suave?"

"Turrico," she said, throwing her head back on the pillow. "Hates me. He's the devil incarnate."

"Mon, it can't be that bad…"

"It is," she said, tears stinging her eyes. "I swear, I'm done."

"Mon…"

"No, I'm serious," she said. "I hate cooking."

"You do not."

"Yes, I do."

"Monica, listen to me," Chandler said, closing his eyes. "This is a management tactic, OK? He's…he's making you guys miserable to see how tough you are."

Monica sat up straight. "What?"

"Yeah, I learned about it at a class when I became a supervisor," he went on. "Look, it's a stupid management style, if you ask me, but some people think it's effective."

"Really?" she said, her interest piqued. "So, he's…waiting for a…rebellion?"

"Exactly," he said with a smile, knowing her competitive streak was beginning to take over. "He's waiting for a leader to emerge. So…emerge."

"Huh."

"The staff at Alessandro's despises you, right," he said, with a smirk.

"Thanks."

"Seriously."

"Yes," she smiled, knowing what he was doing.

"Did you let that make you quit? Did you let that slow you down?" he said. "No! You fired Joey…"

"…eventually…"

"…and you earned their respect," he said, ignoring her interruption. "That's what you should do here. Rally the other chefs and earn his respect."

"Yeah," she said, standing and walking over to her little balcony in her bedroom. "Yeah, I can do that!"

"Yes, you can…"

"I know!" she said, really smiling for the first time in a week.

"Great, now can I go back to sleep?"

"What time is it?" she said, turning to the digital clock in her room and making a quick calculation.

"About 20 after 6," he said, yawning. "And it's a Saturday..."

She winced.

"Sorry…"

"Eh…" he said, stretching a little, really in no rush to hang up with Monica and go back to bed.

She grinned at the phone and closed her eyes, picturing him in a robe, his hair sticking up, stubble on his chin…

His date, she suddenly thought.

"How was your date?" she said, clearing her throat. "Oh, God, I'm sorry. Is she still there?"

Marjorie! Damn, he'd forgotten she was inside.

"Ah…yeah..."

"Sorry, Chandler…"

"Nah, it's OK," he said. "I tucked and rolled a long time ago."

"No broken bones?" she teased.

"Not this time, but the morning is still young," he teased back.

Monica gave a little snort and he laughed, feeling more of a rush than he had the entire evening he'd spent with Marjorie - even with sex.

"I'll let you go."

"Oh…OK," he said, with a frown.

"You're the best," she said softly. "Thank you."

"Well, I try," he said. "Thanks for the recipe. It was great."

"Sure," she said, "and, did you…"

"It's back where it belongs."

She smiled.

"Good morning, Chandler," she said.

"Goodbye, Mon," he said as he hung up the phone and stared toward the sun as it made its way over the buildings next door.

He stayed seated and pulled the blanket around him a little tighter.

###

Monica put the phone back on the cradle and took a deep breath.

She marveled Chandler's ability to tell her what she needed to hear when push came to shove - even thousands of miles apart.

She hugged herself, briefly feeling a chill, as she walked back over to the balcony.

Looking down she spotted a man with light-brown hair and Chandler's build walking down the stone walkway.

For a brief moment her heart sped up, even though she knew there was no way it was him.

She watched the man turn a corner and disappear.

Then she closed her eyes…

_"Hey."_

_She smiled as she felt his arms go around her shoulders, pulling her against him._

_"Hey," she breathed, raising her arms up to hook her hands on his forearms._

_She could almost smell his scent as he kissed her temple._

_"You OK?"_

_She shook her head._

_"No."_

_"How can I help?"_

_"You can be here," she said. _

_"I am here," he whispered._

_"No, you're not…"_

_"I am, whenever you need me."_

_"I need you," she sighed. "Stay here with me."_

_"I'm always here, Mon."_

_"Always?" she asked as she felt the front of his right leg brush the back of hers._

_"Always."_

_"I want you to be," she whispered. "I need you near me, Chandler…"_

_She felt his smile against her hair._

_"I'm right here."_

RING! RING!

Monica opened her eyes and shook herself out of her daydream.

Then she lunged for the phone, certain Chandler was calling her back.

"Hey," she whispered, smiling.

"Mon?" came Ross' confused voice

"Oh, hey," she said, clearing her throat. "What's up?"

"I wanted you to be the first to know," he said excitedly. She heard giggling in the background. "Emily and I are getting married!"

Monica was speechless for a moment.

"Wha…what?!" she finally choked out.

"Married!" he said, again. "I asked her last night and she said yes!"

"Oh my God!" Monica said, hand over her mouth, tears filling her eyes. "That's…"

"Awesome, I know," he said quickly and very loudly.

"Shhh,"she heard Emily in the background.

"Sorry, it's the caffeine," he apologized. "We haven't slept yet."

Suddenly Vanessa was at the door to the bedroom, waving at her that they had to go.

Monica put up one finger to tell her to wait a minute.

"Ross, I have to get back to class," she said. "But, oh, congratulations. Please tell Emily, too. We'll talk soon."

"OK, OK, bye," he said, the smile on his face evident through the phone. "Love ya!"

"You, too," she said.

"Congratulations?" Vanessa said, eyes questioning her.

"That was my brother," she said, looking at the red-head in shock. "He's…he's getting married."

_**NOTE: OK, so I have this all plotted out, but I still have no idea how many chapters it will be. I'm thinking it's gonna be about the size of Slow Me Down, so be prepared. I wish I had time to respond to your reviews, but just know I love each and every one. Brings a smile to my face every time. Thank you!**_


	5. Chapter 5

"I just, I can't go to that wedding," Rachel said, pacing in Joey and Chandler's apartment. "Who would have _ever_ thought they'd get married so fast…it's all just too fast!"

Phoebe and Chandler just looked at each other, neither really knowing what to say. Rachel was in full meltdown mode and, usually, Monica would pick up the pieces.

"You'll get to see Monica," Chandler offered. It was basically the only reason he was excited to spend thousands of dollars to stand beside Ross as he married a woman he barely knew in a foreign country.

"I mean, Pheebs, you'll be pretty big by then," Rachel continued, ignoring him. "I think…I just think you'll need me here."

"Oh no, don't pin this on me," Phoebe said, wagging her finger at her from her seat on the barca lounger. "_You_ don't want to go because _you_ are still in love with him."

"I am not!"

"Oh, yeah ya are," Chandler said quietly, shaking his head.

"What?!" Rachel said, folding her arms in front of her. "I am not! It's just, it's awkward! He's my ex, OK? I mean, Chandler, if…if Janice sent you an invitation to her wedding how would you feel?"

"How would I..." he said, throwing his hands in the air in an 'are-you-kidding' gesture. "I'd find the guy and throw him the _biggest _bachelor party my money could buy!"

Phoebe chuckled.

"OK, bad example," Rachel said. "Kathy then?"

He looked at her sharply as the happy thought of Janice marrying someone else swiftly left his mind.

Kathy…yeah, that one stung a little.

"Oh…Rachel…" Phoebe scolded softly, shaking her head.

"She's right," Chandler conceded, after a moment. "I…I wouldn't go to that wedding."

Rachel bit her lip, knowing she shouldn't have brought her up. His breakup with Kathy wasn't that long ago.

"Chandler, I'm sorry…" she started.

"Hey, no, you're right," he said, putting his hands in his pockets and shrugging. "It…it would be awkward."

"OK," she said, nodding, as she made her way to the door. "OK, then you know, I'm just…I'm not going."

Phoebe and Chandler looked after Rachel as she left the apartment, then he sat in the other barca lounger and smiled sadly at Phoebe.

"She's still in love with him."

"Yep," he said, sighing. Phoebe looked at him a moment before she spoke again.

"At least _you'll_ get to see Monica," she said, glancing curiously at him.

"Yeah," he said, his face immediately brightening. "Yeah, it's been too long."

"I can't believe she's been gone almost two months," Phoebe said, shaking her head.

"Me either," he said, shaking his head, too.

"You miss her."

He looked at her, confused.

"We all miss her…"

"Yeah," she said, cocking her head to one side. "But you miss her more."

"Why…why would you say that?" he said, getting slightly panicky.

"You just do," Phoebe said, shrugging nonchalantly, as though it was as obvious to everyone as Rachel's continued love for Ross.

"I do not," he said, standing again. "Yeah, I mean, it's…different and, ya know, the food hasn't been as good around here, but…but I miss her the same amount as the next guy."

Phoebe looked up at him, somewhat bemused.

"OK," she said. "You would know better than I would."

"Yes, I would," he said, patting his pockets nervously for his wallet, all jittery. "You wanna get a coffee or something?"

"Nah, I'm good."

"OK," he said, already just a step or two from the door. "Well, I'll…I'm going to get some. I'll see you later, Pheebs."

"See ya," she said as he shut the door behind him.

"Yeah, ya do…" she added to herself, with a little smile on her face.

###

"But it's my brother's wedding," Monica pleaded, desperately running down the hallway after Dean Turrico. "I'm a bridesmaid. I have to be there!"

"You took responsibility," he said, barely containing a semblance to calm. "You are the leader. You cannot leave that weekend."

"But…"

"No!" he said firmly. "Is over."

And he turned and walked back into the test kitchen.

Monica put a hand to her forehead.

"Oh my God!" she said, shaking her fist at no one.

Chandler had been absolutely correct. The dean, who it was rumored began this rigorous academy in Florence so he could show his family back in Bologna that he could be wildly successful on his own, was a taskmaster with a chip on his shoulder. But he wanted to be the best and he expected the best.

He _was_ waiting for a leader to emerge - and one Monica Geller had emerged all right. Her fellow chefs were grateful for it - it built team spirit and leveled the playing field, but it did come with responsibility.

And that was something Monica hadn't minded in the least, until now.

The event the dean was referring to was the first of many Sunday dinners the students put on for various art charities in the Florence area. It was a big deal - for both the academy and the behemoth that was the Florence art community.

And Monica was put in charge of the menu and the execution of the dinner.

Of course the ball was rolling on the event before her brother up and decided to get married in London one month after getting engaged.

She wanted desperately to go - not just because it was her brother's wedding, but because she wanted to see everyone. Well, she knew she wouldn't see Phoebe, and she only held out a little hope she'd see Rachel, but she'd at least see her parents, Ross, Joey and…Chandler.

"Ugh…"

"What's wrong, honey," Vanessa said as she came around the corner with a fellow chef - Kevin Neil from Seattle. The ex-pats had been her partners in crime during the chefs' rebellion.

"He won't let me go," Monica said, dejectedly. "He won't let me go to the wedding.'"

"Oh, that's bullshit," Kevin said.

Vanessa gave her a quick hug.

"I guess," Monica said, with a sigh, tears stinging her eyes. "That's it…it's just the way it is."

Vanessa shook her head.

"No, you go," Vanessa agreed. "Just go. Kevin and I will cover for you."

"I can't do that."

"Uh, sure you can," Kevin said, giving her his mega-watt smile. He was tall, blond with deep green eyes - and a bit of a rebel streak to him that Monica didn't have. "Yeah, we'll cover for you."

"No, guys, I can't do…" she started, then stopped, contemplating. "Really?"

"Of course!" Vanessa said, patting her arm. "Just, fly in right before the rehearsal dinner Friday and fly out after the wedding. One night - it would be quick…"

"He'll never know," Kevin nodded, then gestured toward the test kitchen.

"How will he never know?" Monica said, skeptically.

"He won't," Vanessa said. "I promise you, we'll take care of everything. Just…work like a dog before you have to leave…"

"…and that's different from?" she said, sarcastically.

"I mean, use all that crazy, useful organizational energy of yours before you leave and we'll take care of the rest," Vanessa said as Kevin nodded encouragement. "You'll be back Saturday night and we'll be ready for Sunday. Y'all need to be at your brother's wedding."

Monica looked at the two of them and grinned. They both had proven to be good chefs over the last couple months, and Monica was as confident as she could be leaving Vanessa in charge if she was gone. She was a little leery about Kevin.

But she really wanted to go to London.

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah," Kevin said, reaching out and patting her shoulder affectionately. "It'll be fine."

She hugged them both.

"Thank you!"

###

"I still can't believe you're getting married in half a church tomorrow," Chandler said, shaking his head while pulling apart a tiny strand of little twinkling lights and placing them carefully on the floor next to a kneeling Ross.

"Well, I am so we have to make this work!" Ross said, very keyed up.

"We will," Chandler said, tentatively patting Ross's shoulder. "Calm down."

"Calm down?" Ross said, glaring. "Calm down?!"

Chandler put his hands up and stepped back.

"Did I say 'calm down'?" he quipped. "I meant 'panic, panic!'"

Ross let out a deep sigh.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled. "She's just so upset."

Chandler nodded. The church Emily wanted to get married in was being torn down, but she thought she had a week to spare before it happened.

She didn't.

So after much arguing and discussing Ross decided he would surprise her and make the church as pretty as possible for their wedding the next day. He'd enlisted Joey and Chandler's to help pull off the plan of twinkling lights and candles. Chandler thought Monica would be duly impressed to see how they'd put the romantic scene in motion.

Thankfully the late October weather was warm enough to pull off a ceremony in a half-demolished church. They'd lucked out on that at least.

"Where do ya think these should go?" Joey asked, looking aimlessly around the building, arms full of lights.

Ross stood, put his hands on his hips and looked around.

"Monica would know," Chandler said suddenly, looking somewhat helplessly toward the entrance of the church.

"Yeah, that's helpful, too bad she's not here," Joey said, stating the obvious. Chandler rolled his eyes.

"Do you think she'll even make the wedding?" Joey continued.

"I hope so," Ross said, sadly. "She's got a quick turnaround back to Italy, though."

"She'll be here," Chandler said, adamantly. "Of course she'll be here. It's…it's your wedding and…and she's, ya know, a bridesmaid and…and…"

He stopped abruptly, taking a deep breath as Ross and Joey looked at him curiously.

"I mean," Chandler said, recovering and trying to be nonchalant about it, "her plane's just delayed, that's all."

Ross continued to look at Chandler. Even in his own state of euphoria Ross had noticed a time or two over the last couple months that Chandler had seemed…restless. Since they arrived in London, though, he'd seemed almost as excited as Ross, despite his disaster of a toast at the rehearsal dinner.

He clapped him on the shoulder.

"I'm excited to see her, too, man," he said to Chandler. "She'll be here."

Chandler just shrugged and nodded.

Joey looked at Ross and cleared his throat, setting down the lights.

"Ya know, you're about done here," he said, glancing at the imaginary watch on his wrist and yawning dramatically, then he clapped his hands together. "It's late and we have a _big_ day tomorrow…"

Chandler glanced at his watch. It was almost 10 p.m. London time. They were all working off adrenaline and he was pretty sure he knew why Joey's had run out. He glanced at Ross, who smirked at him.

"Go find Felicity, Joey," Ross said, extending a hand toward the church door.

"Yay!" he said excitedly. "London, baby!"

Chandler smirked at Ross as Joey bounded out of the church.

"Wouldn't be a wedding unless Joey bagged a bridesmaid," Chandler said, voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Yeah, and the only other one is my sister," Ross said, shuddering at the thought as he put the last of the candles strategically in place.

Chandler picked up the lights Joey discarded and moved the chair they were using for a ladder. He stepped up and started attaching them to another strand.

Ross looked around.

"Not too bad," he smiled. "Mind if I run to get Emily and bring her back here?"

"Nope, go ahead," Chandler said, finding little jetted-out bricks along the wall to hook the wires. He heard Ross leave the church.

Moments later he heard the church door open again.

"Ross, it looks great, just go," he said, exasperated, without turning from his task.

"Boy," she said, "it really does."

He turned sharply, dropping the lights and nearly fell off the chair.

"Mon!" he smiled brightly when he recovered.

"Hey," she laughed, smiling just as bright and quickly walking over to him.

He jumped down and wrapped her in a big hug.

She melted into his embrace.

"I am _so_ happy to see you," she said, wrapping her arms a tighter around him.

"Ditto," he said, smiling into her hair.

_**NOTE: Lots of time shifted in this chapter, I know, but I wanted to move the plot along a bit at this point. And, geez, it was time for our favorite duo to meet face-to-face again! And honestly, of all the weddings on "Friends" I have to say that I thought the scene set for Ross and Emily's was the most romantic. Anyway, thanks bunches for your reviews. I love that everyone has a different theory about where this story is headed. I know, of course, but your guesses are just the best… :)**_


	6. Chapter 6

"Oh Ross," Emily said gleefully, throwing her arms around him. "This is lovely, just lovely. Thank you."

Ross smiled at his bride-to-be.

"It looks better than when I left, Chandler," he said, turning knowingly to his sister.

"The master organizer flew in just in time," Chandler said, giving Monica a wink.

"Nah," she said, with a wave of her hand. "You guys did a great job, I just made some small changes."

Chandler raised his eyebrows at her.

"OK, some big changes," she beamed. Monica certainly had learned a bit about lighting and settings living in the art capital of Europe.

The place looked nice when the guys were in charge, but now it looked like something out of a fairytale. The lights and candles were strategically placed to accent all the interesting angles and touches that remained in what was left of the church.

"I'm just so glad you made it," Ross said. "I ran into Mom at the hotel and she said there was something wrong with the plane?"

"Oh, I was just telling Chandler," Monica said, nodding to him. "There was a mechanical issue with the first plane, then we had to deplane and get on another airplane, and _then_ we had to wait for the crew to get the required hours of down time before we could take off. It was just a mess."

"Sounds like it," Ross said, shaking his head. "I bet you were going crazy."

"I know!" she said. "It was…unsettling, to say the least. Thank goodness Rachel sent me the new Nicholas Sparks book. I read the whole thing on the runway. I really thought I might not make it…"

She shuddered at the thought. She was risking a lot by being there in the first place. She thought maybe all the airplane problems were karma's way of telling her to stay in Italy.

But she flew to London anyway.

"Oh, is he the author of "The Notebook? That was _such_ a beautiful story!'" Emily said, excitedly.

"Yes! It's so good," Monica said, dreamily.

"I can't wait to read it."

"Oh, it's so romantic, you'll just love it…"

"OK," Ross interrupted, giving Chandler an eye roll. "OK, Ladies, as much we would love to stick around and talk about romance novels, it's after 11 and I think it's bad luck for the bride and groom to see each other before the wedding on their wedding day. I've gotta get you back to your parents' house."

"Can you kill the lights for me?" he added to Chandler, who nodded.

Hugs were exchanged and Ross and Emily walked out of the church.

Chandler unplugged the lights as Monica blew out the candles.

"I guess we should head back to the hotel," Chandler said, closing the church door securely behind them as they walked out into the clear, crisp night.

"Yeah," Monica sighed, sadly. "I was really hoping to see a _little_ of London while I was here, but that's not gonna happen. It's pretty late."

Chandler glanced at his watch. She wasn't even going to be in London a full 24-hours at this point.

And he wanted to spend all the time he could with her.

"We could…ah…walk the city a little bit," he offered. "Take the long way back."

"At this hour?"

"You'll protect me, won't ya?" he grinned at her.

She grinned back.

"Ah," she said quietly, "we don't have to."

"Why not?" he said, putting his arm around her shoulder. "Let's go see what we can see of the 'royal' darkness."

She wrapped her arm around his waist and squeezed, grinning from ear to ear.

"You know, I'd really like that," she said.

And he smiled as they made their way toward the River Thames.

###

"True north? You mean like Canada?" Chandler asked, a little confused, then he burst into song. "_Oh, Canada, my home and native land, true patriot love in all thy sons command, with glowing hearts we see thee rise_, _the true north strong and free.._."

Despite herself Monica burst out laughing. Chandler grinned and continued singing the Canadian national anthem. She was trying to explain what the book she'd read on the plane was all about. They'd just passed near the Globe Theatre along the Thames and the written word had become the next topic in the easy flowing conversation that was playing out between them.

They'd been walking a long time, and she wasn't sure if either of them really knew where they were.

But, somehow, it didn't seem to matter.

She couldn't remember a time in recent months when she'd been so relaxed - or laughed so hard.

"Oh God," she said finally, wiping her eyes, she took a deep breath. "No! Will you stop…"

He smiled down at her as they kept walking. He forgot to look at any of the London landmarks they were passing in the dark - he was having too much fun making her laugh.

She finally stopped with a snort, which made him chuckle, then she glanced at him warily, clearing her throat.

"I mean, like, you know your 'true north'," she said, a little hesitantly. "Your compass, your…lighthouse in the dark. You know, the one person that calls to you like a beacon. Your soulmate…"

"Soulmates?" he said, with a look of disbelief, squirming a little. "I don't know. And this beacon? Is it like…something only…bats can see…or?"

"Oh, never mind," she said, taking off walking faster now and shaking her head a little. "I should have known better than to…bring it up with you…"

He jogged a bit to catch up with her.

"I'm sorry," he said, grabbing the sleeve of her jacket. "I'm sorry…"

She looked at him, a bemused expression on her face.

"Can you maybe be serious for five minutes?"

"That's a long time," he said, with his lopsided grin she couldn't help but be softened by.

She'd missed it so much.

"OK," he said, running his hand down her arm and taking her hand in his. "OK, five minutes…beacons, lighthouses…you were saying?"

They started walking again, neither of them realizing for the moment that their hands were still joined together as they made their way along the river toward Big Ben.

###

"Oh! My! God!" he mimicked as Monica giggled. "She was more like a foghorn - definitely not a beacon."

"Oh, she's a nice person, just kinda…" Monica trailed off.

"Annoying as hell?"

She grinned.

"You were the one convinced you were in love with her."

"Damn, how desperate was I?"

"Wanna go down that road?"

"God, no," he said, with a grin.

She had her arm linked with his as they walked past the Blackfriars Bridge.

"And the only other serious one was…" she started, then stopped herself.

She felt him tense up a little.

"Don't wanna go down that road either," he said. Monica nodded, understanding he had no desire to talk about Kathy.

They walked for a couple more minutes in silence, before making a turn at the bend in the river.

She tried to stifle a yawn.

"Wanna head back?"

"Not yet, let's just sit for a minute," she said, eyeing a low stoop nearby and taking a seat. He followed suit.

"So, what about you?" he said tentatively, clasping his hands between his bent knees, looking at the lights of the city in her eyes.

"Well, it wasn't Pete," she said, wrapping her arms around her legs.

"No, it wasn't," he said, shaking his head. "Were you…ever really comfortable with the thought of marrying him?"

He'd always wondered. In that whirlwind romance he'd watched Monica try to convince herself that she was in love with the multi-millionaire, and all the while she was binge-eating the whole time. He'd never told her, but it had bothered him and if they hadn't broken up he was prepared to say something to her.

"No," she said, definitively. "That never felt completely right. The UFC did me a favor there."

He grinned.

"The only other ex would have been…" she started.

"Richard," he nodded, completely anticipating that answer.

"Yeah," she whispered.

"He's the love of your life," Chandler said, matter-of-factly.

Then his face dropped. They'd had such a fun night, why…_why_ did he have to say that?

Monica was quiet for a few minutes.

He started shifting uncomfortably, very worried he'd upset her, bringing back memories she'd wanted to remain buried.

He knew what that was like.

"Mon," he said softly. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said…"

"No," she shook her head.

Then she shook it again.

"I've had a great love," she said softly, "but…I don't think I've had _the_ love."

He looked at her, somewhat surprised by that.

"Whatta mean?"

"The last love," she said, looking out over the river, shimmering in the city lights. "The love of my life - my 'true north'."

"I'm tellin' ya, I can take you to Canada…" he grinned after a moment, trying to lighten the mood.

She nudged him with her elbow.

"What about you?"

"What about me?" he said, giving her a confused look. They'd already been through his former significant others.

"Well…you're dating that sleep clinic woman, right?"

He half-nodded, half-shrugged.

Marjorie.

He hadn't thought of her once since he'd been in England.

"You must feel something," she said softly.

He shrugged again.

"Really?" she said, a bit incredulous. "You slept with her on the first date, right?"

He raised his eyebrows.

"Um, yeah…it's sex."

"Oh," she said, standing up from the curb and brushing off the back of her pants. "Men - always separating sex and love, when, ya know, sometimes it _means_ something! Even on the first date…"

He looked up at her, a little shocked that she was being so hard on him. Didn't Joey do this all the time?

"Can I just say one thing in my defense?" he said, swiftly standing next to her.

"What?" she said, looking at him expectantly, arms crossed.

"Paul."

"Paul?"

"The wine guy," he said, crossing his arms, too, and grinning at her. "First date."

In the glow of the streetlights he could see her face turn a little pink.

"Uh huh," he said, very cocky now.

"That was different," she said, turning from him and starting to walk again.

"How exactly?" he asked. "Because you're a woman? Men have needs too, ya know."

She glared at him and could see his eyes dancing, gleefully teasing her.

She tried unsuccessfully to keep the grin off her face as they continued walking along the river.

How they'd ever gotten on this subject she'd never know. All she knew was how good she felt being with him again.

Chandler glanced at Monica, who looked lost in thought, and smiled.

He knew he was slap-happy - he was so tired - but he felt like a big bottle of energy had been unleased inside him as they walked aimlessly from one point of interest to another.

He was so glad she was there, walking around London in the middle of the night, with him.

"Hey," he said, clearing his throat and trying to clear his mind a little. "I am really failing as a tour guide, I…wait…"

He suddenly grabbed her arm.

"What?"

"Look," he said, pointing to the sky.

It was a clear night and the city was bright, but he could have sworn he saw a shooting star.

"Where?" she said looking up. "What am I looking for?"

"Right there!" he said, pointing excitedly.

"I don't see anything, Chandler…"

He gently pulled the arm he was holding to him then placed his hands on her hips, standing her right in front of him.

He bent down and pointed out toward the night sky, his breath against her ear.

"I swear I saw a shooting star," he whispered.

"In the city?" she squinted toward the darkness, looking over his pointing finger.

"See! Again," he said as his hand came down and his arms involuntarily went around her waist.

"That's a plane," she said, beginning to look away, then it caught her eye. "Oh!"

"See!"

"Is that a star?" she said, straining her eyes. "It's not a plane."

"Huh," he said as he put his chin on her shoulder and she leaned back into him. "It's some sort of flashing spotlight. Sure looked like a star..."

"Maybe it's some kind of…beacon," she whispered, now completely aware of herself in his arms. She swallowed hard and closed her eyes, her head against his shoulder.

He tilted his head a little and saw her eyes were closed.

Chandler stood up a little straighter, his heart racing.

He didn't know if it was jetlag or fatigue but suddenly he felt dizzy.

So dizzy.

"Ah…" he said softly, breaking whatever moment was threatening to take over his comfort zone. He glanced at his watch. "It's 3:30, you're…you're tired. Maybe we should catch a cab back to the hotel."

She frowned in her own confusion a moment as she opened her eyes, looking out in the direction of the flashing light once again.

"Yeah," she said quietly. "Maybe we should."

###

"What's that?" Monica said, pausing outside Chandler's hotel room.

She'd fallen asleep on his shoulder in the taxi they'd finally caught a few blocks from Big Ben. Their hotel rooms were on the same floor, hers just a few doors down, across the hall. They'd stopped at Chandler's first and began to say goodnight when she heard a high-pitched, female giggle from the other side of the door.

"Wha…" he said, leaning his ear against the door.

Oh dear God.

"Joey's got a woman in there," he said, grimacing. He wasn't sure whether he should knock or just use his key. He raised his hand to pound on the door, Monica touched his elbow to stop him.

He looked at her tired eyes, questioning them with his own.

"Why don't you just…stay with me," she whispered.

_**NOTE: Have you noticed Monica was gorging on food while she dated Pete? I just noticed this not too long ago watching season 3. Anyway, I am sure walking around London in the dead of night isn't the smartest thing to do, but it sure as hell sounded romantic to me. :)**_

_**Thanks, once again, for your reviews…**_


	7. Chapter 7

"You can use the bathroom first," she said, laying her hotel key down on the end table.

"Thanks," he yawned, walking over to the bathroom and closing the door.

As quickly as her tired body would move Monica changed out of her clothes and into her pajama shorts and t-shirt, wondering if she should leave her bra on or take it off.

He'd be on the other side of the big king-sized bed - she decided she could take it off.

She folded her clothes and stuck them all back neatly into her small suitcase, swallowing hard.

She was nervous and she didn't know why.

She and Chandler had fallen asleep together before, more often than not squished up tight on a couch and not a bed, but still. It wasn't that big of a deal.

But all those times seemed to be by accident or by circumstance.

This was, too - Joey's liaison being the circumstance.

It just…felt different.

She glanced at the bathroom door as it started to open.

"You didn't care if I used your toothbrush, did ya?" he grinned, his bedroom eyes smiling at her.

"Uh…no, I guess," she squished her face up. "Did you?"

"No," he laughed. "Finger, toothpaste, a little mouth wash, works just as well."

"Lovely."

"We will be in close quarters…" he said, gesturing at the bed.

"Not that close," she smirked at him, pointing toward the end of the bed. "You can have the far side."

He nodded.

"Should I…ah…sleep in my clothes?"

"I've seen you in your boxers and undershirt before," she shrugged, even as she suddenly felt more nervous.

"That's true," he said, with a grin, "though you might not be able to resist my old, white t-shirt and Rocky and Bullwinkle boxers."

"You don't have…"

He unbuckled his belt and pulled down the side of his pants to show her he wasn't kidding.

She put a hand over her mouth.

"I'll try to restrain myself," she giggled.

He grinned and she turned to go into the bathroom.

"Don't go getting any ideas," he said as she started to close the door and he climbed in bed.

She rolled her eyes.

"I'll be way over here," she said, then shut the bathroom door behind her.

She quickly brushed her teeth, washed her face and ran a brush through her hair. It was all she could do to stay awake.

She turned off the light and opened the door.

She could hear his deep breathing and knew he was already asleep.

Slowly making her way to the near side of the bed, she crawled under the covers and as soon as she closed her eyes she was asleep.

###

Warm.

She felt warm, like she was nestled tightly in the strongest, sturdiest blanket ever.

Monica floated in the haze between deep sleep and consciousness cloaked in a profound feeling of security.

Instinctively she pushed herself back to burrow further into the warmth and it tightened around her.

She couldn't move and her body didn't want to.

She'd never felt so safe and at peace in her entire life.

Every curve, every limb of her body seemed heavy and light at the same time.

It was like God was holding her in the palm of His hand.

Protected.

Loved.

Comforted…

Calm.

The scent that reached his subconscious first was one he'd been surrounded by for years.

And in his sleep he had reached out for it and it relaxed him.

He was completely comfortable.

Chandler's arms naturally tightened around its source, wanting to keep the tranquility close to him.

Wanting to keep the warmth where it was, so close to his heart.

He was completely at ease, they were breathing as one.

He sighed into her hair, almost awake, but not quite.

His eyes were closed.

Hers fluttered open slowly and she saw his arms around her.

One tucked under her head, bracing her across the front of her shoulders, the other sliding down under her breast. Her arms were crossed, resting against it. The fingers of her right hand linked with his.

His right leg was blanketing both of hers.

His chin, or his cheek, she wasn't sure which, was resting against her hair.

She let out a shuddery breath as tears stung her sleepy eyes and she realized she was wrapped up - feeling protected, comforted, safe - with Chandler.

She closed her eyes once again, relishing the front of his body flush against the back of hers. Feeling his arms tighten around her one more time, she buried her head in his arm, feeling like she could cry.

She felt molded to him, as though she was made to fit against him just so.

He gently rocked back a little and every part of her rocked with him.

She'd never woken up like this with anyone before. Not with Richard, not with Pete. Not with anyone.

She'd never felt like she could die of happiness simply by being held tightly, innocently in a sleeping man's embrace.

In his arms…in her best friend's arms.

He moaned a little, lazily opening his eyes, and he found himself on Monica's side of the bed, clutching her to him.

He gazed down at her body against his, almost in shock.

He wasn't sure if she was asleep or awake - he hoped asleep. He didn't want to move.

He just wanted to hold her…it felt so damn right to hold her…

How did they end up like this?

How could they help but end up like this…

Dismissing the possibility that it might cause her wake up, he gently ran his free hand up and down her arm, his fingertips gently grazing her soft skin under her t-shirt sleeve.

He wasn't sure he wasn't dreaming.

Monica stirred just a little against him. He raised his head slowly, sure that she'd be awake soon.

Sure that she would leave his arms, probably in a panic.

He leaned down to kiss her cheek.

At the same time she turned to face him.

And their lips gently brushed together.

He looked down into her eyes - seeing surprise - and instinctively leaned down to brush her lips again.

And again.

Her eyes widened as they looked into his - they were so blue.

She shifted in his arms as he brushed her lips once more.

This time she captured them with hers, and pushed her lips harder against his.

He froze briefly before completely disengaging from their sleeping position.

She felt cold for just a moment as his body left hers and she rolled onto her back. Their lips were seeking each other out in a burst of short, sweet kisses.

He held her face between his hands as he pressed his body down against hers and kissed her deeply, her arms wrapped around under his shoulders.

Her head was swimming and her heart was pounding as she kissed him deeply in return, letting out a low moan.

Their heavy breathing and hungry lips smacking together were the only sounds in the room….

BANG! BANG! BANG!

"Monica?" came Joey's desperate voice from outside the door, as he pounded on it again. "Mon, are you in there?"

Chandler broke away abruptly and they stared at each other for a long moment. She ran her fingers through his hair and pulled his head back to her.

He dropped his mouth to hers.

"Mon!" Joey shouted, as he banged on the door again. "It's kinda an emergency!"

"Dammit," Chandler whispered against her lips as he reluctantly began to slowly pull his body away.

She could barely find her voice. She swallowed hard, her eyes never leaving Chandler's.

"Coming, Joe," she finally shouted back, looking toward the door.

Breathing heavily Chandler climbed out of her bed and picked up his folded pants off the chair. He quickly pulled them on.

Monica walked on shaky legs across the room and opened the door.

"What's wrong, Joey?" she asked as he walked past her into the room. She held her breath.

"Phoebe just called and Rachel…" he started, then he gasped.

Chandler gave him a short nod.

"Morning…"

"You?" he said, pointing to Chandler then Monica. "And…you?!"

"I…we…" Monica started, shooting a desperate glance at Chandler.

"I just slept here last night, Joe," he said, giving Monica a reassuring look. "We came back late and you were…busy."

"Oh, yeah," he said, with a little smile.

Then he shook his hands and his head, refocusing on what had brought him to Monica's room in the first place.

"Rachel is on her way here to tell Ross she loves him," he said in a rush. "She wants to stop the wedding!"

"What?!" "No!"

"Yes!" Joey said. "We gotta figure out what to do."

"Oh God," Monica said, putting a hand to her forehead. "What time is it?"

"Almost 10," Joey said.

"No!" Monica suddenly in an actual panic. "I'm supposed to meet Emily and Felicity at 10:30."

"Go, go," Chandler said, pointing toward the bathroom as he pulled on his shirt. "Come on, Joe, we'll figure…something out."

"OK," Joey said, relieved, as he walked out the door.

Monica rushed toward the bathroom then stopped and turned around.

"Chandler?" she said, anxious.

He paused, halfway out the door, and turned to her.

His lopsided grin came across his face.

"I'll see you later."

She grinned back and he closed the door.

Monica leaned her head back against the door frame.

She looked over at the bed and wrapped her arms around herself.

A shiver ran down her spine.

If Joey hadn't shown up they would have…they would have…

She shuddered before stepping into the bathroom and closing the door behind her.

She walked over to the sink and looked at her reflection in the mirror - her lips still swollen from their kiss - and let out a deep breath.

"Oh, I sure would have…"

_**NOTE: I know you have lots of Mondler fics to review so, ya know, take your time ;)**_


	8. Chapter 8

It was best that Joey stopped them.

Chandler was sure of it.

At least, he thought he was sure.

The voice in his head kept telling him how stupid it would have been to have sex with Monica.

Because, man, he was pretty damn sure that's where they were headed.

But a one-night-stand with your best friend - not a good idea, Bing. Have sex, send her back to Italy. You go back to New York and act like nothing happened at all.

Yeah, that sounded like a _great_ plan.

Chandler sighed as his mind kept churning. He was half waiting for Ross at the front of the church and half keeping an eye out for Rachel. The wedding was supposed to start in about 30 minutes and, thank God, there had been no sign of her so far.

Or Monica, for that matter. He hadn't seen her since the morning.

The morning.

What a morning. He never woke up draped over a woman like that. He hugged and rolled. It was an absolutely brilliant move Ross had invented.

But not with Monica…never with Monica.

He stuffed his hands into his tux pockets and implored that other voice in his head, the one that thought maybe this morning was just about perfect, to _shut the hell up_.

He missed her, that was all it was.

It was an "I miss you" kinda…hug…thing.

But that kiss…oh, God…

"Will you stop it!" he chastised himself under his breath.

"Stop what?" Joey asked.

Chandler's head shot up. He hadn't seen Joey walk over to him.

"Stop…Rachel," he said, suddenly. "I'm just…ah…talking myself into stopping Rachel. Ya know 'you can do it, you can stop it, um, her' kinda like a…pep talk.'"

He winced. Could he _be_ more lame?

Joey widened his eyes at him and patted his shoulder

"Whatever works for you, buddy," he said, glancing over his shoulder. "Maybe she won't show."

"One can only hope," Chandler said, "but this is the same 28-year-old woman who put on a cheerleading uniform to seduce a man."

"And?" Joey said, wondering what the problem was with that.

"Eh…" Chandler conceded with a head nod.

"OK, I'm gonna go back out front, will you make sure Monica is at the back entrance?"

"Why?" Chandler said, his heart speeding up. "I mean, if she said that's where she'd be then…then I'm sure she's there. I gotta, I gotta wait for Ross."

"Just real quick," Joey pleaded. "Please?"

Chandler hesitated.

"Come on, man.."

"OK…OK…"

Joey slapped Chandler's back and walked toward the front door.

Chandler took a deep breath and walked slowly towards the back.

###

Monica peeked out the back door then shut it again.

If Rachel was really on her way, then Monica was sure her best friend had completely lost her mind.

Either that, or she'd read too many romance novels.

"You're a fine one to talk," she whispered to no one as she wrapped her arms around herself.

They were a very poor substitute for Chandler's arms.

She shook her head, silently declaring she was swearing off Nicholas Sparks books forever. This latest one - "Message in a Bottle" - was the last one.

She'd kissed Chandler. He may have started it but she'd continued it.

And she would have continued doing a lot more than kissing him if Joey hadn't saved them from themselves.

But, God, the man could kiss. If he could kiss like that she could only imagine…

"No!" she whispered to herself. She wouldn't imagine. That's what had gotten her into trouble in the first place. She kept imagining him with her. Here…in Italy.

It was just…it wasn't right. He was her best friend - emphasis on _friend_. She had to remember that.

She just missed him. She missed him more than she really ever thought she would when she left New York. Not that she didn't think she'd miss him - or anybody else - but she didn't know it would be so bad.

She didn't…realize how much she…depended on him.

How…important he was in her life…

"Hey," he said softly.

She looked over from the door and her heart slammed against her chest. She almost moaned, he looked so hot in his tux. The gray in his vest and tie brought out the blue in his eyes, which sparkled against his gentle smile.

Oh my…when had he gotten so handsome?!

"Hey," she muttered back to him, pulling her wrap a little closer to her body.

Chandler had never wanted to be a piece of clothing more in his entire life.

"You look," he said, his voice catching, trying not to stare too hard at her in her bright red, spaghetti-strap bridesmaid dress.

He tried, but failed.

"God, Monica, you're gorgeous."

She smiled up at him and he swore his heart stopped.

"Thank you," she blushed a little, as her heart sped up more. "You look…great, too."

"Eh," he shrugged. "I clean up alright."

She grinned as a brief but undeniably awkward silence fell between them.

"Listen, I…" Chandler started, Monica ready to hang on his every word.

And just then the back door opened and Rachel walked into the church, almost running into Monica and Chandler in her haste.

"Rachel!" Chandler said, grabbing her arm before she walked past him.

"Oh my God, you are really here?" Monica whispered loudly.

"Mon!" Rachel said smiling and briefly hugging her friend with her free arm. "Oh, I miss you!"

"I miss you too, but what are you doing here!"

"I have to talk to Ross."

"No, you don't," Chandler said, refusing to let go of her arm.

"Yes, I do," Rachel said, jerking it away.

"No, sweetie, no," Monica said gently, turning Rachel to face her. "You don't. He's getting married, Rachel. _Married_. He's not, I'm sorry, but he's not in love with you anymore. He loves someone else. He loves Emily. And I know that is so hard for you to hear, but you have to listen to me. I'm sorry, OK, I'm sorry, but trying to stop this wedding isn't going to make Ross fall back in love with you. It's just not…"

Chandler saw Rachel's eyes fill with tears as Monica continued calmly trying to talk some sense into her.

Then he watched in awe as Monica did what Monica always did - what she did best.

She made everything, even the worst things, somehow…better.

He stepped back from Rachel a bit as Monica pulled her into a hug and rubbed her back, whispering consoling words to the woman with the broken heart.

Her magical touch made his heart ache, and despite himself that ache was plainly written all over his face.

Monica looked at Chandler and her stomach flipped. The look on his face was one that hardly anyone ever saw - that vulnerable, little boy look that he tried so hard to hide.

Suddenly Monica reached a hand out to him and he willingly went into their hug, his arms wrapped around both women.

He did feel sorry for Rachel. They both did.

"Oh…you're right," Rachel choked out, tears streaming down her face. "You're suffocating me, but you're right."

Monica and Chandler stepped away, both with small smiles on their faces.

"You're right," Rachel said softly, wiping her eyes. "He loves her. I…I need to go. Why…what am I doing here?"

"You're here," Monica said softly, "to be with your best friend on the happiest day of his life, even if…if it breaks your heart."

Chandler swallowed hard and nodded.

"Sometimes you just…have to…let go," he said, glancing at Monica, who was looking at Rachel.

She took a deep breath and grabbed Monica's hand.

"OK," Rachel said, wiping the last of her tears. "OK."

Monica smiled softly at her and put an arm around her shoulders, leading her into the church to find a place to sit.

She cast a glance over her shoulder at Chandler. He nodded once more with a small grin on his face, then followed them to meet Ross at the front of the church.

###

"I take thee Rachel…"

Rachel hadn't physically stopped the wedding, but she might as well have.

All hell broke loose after Emily and Ross quickly finished their "I dos."

Rachel attached herself to Monica, wondering what she should do now. Should she tell Ross she loved him? Should she not?

At that moment Monica honestly didn't give a damn what Rachel did. She was wishing now the woman had stayed in New York. She was mad at her stupid brother, appalled that Emily had taken off without a word, and completely desperate to see Chandler before she had to leave.

And he was nowhere to be found.

After beseeching her for more than a half hour through the closed bathroom door at the Waltham house, Ross discovered Emily had fled through the window.

So he begged Joey and Chandler to help look for her.

Chandler wanted to tell Ross to go to hell, go back in time, say the right name for God sake! But, he didn't.

So he helped as best he could, searching a city he didn't know well at all, with memories of the tour with Monica the night before hitting him at nearly every turn.

It was almost 6 o'clock - three hours after the wedding - when Chandler told Joey he had had enough of searching for the runaway bride. He left Joey to his map to continue looking on his own.

Monica was leaving and he just…he had to see her. Her flight left at 8:30 and he was sure he had missed her.

He was a few blocks from the hotel when he started jogging.

He was in a full-out sprint as he ran down the hallway of her floor, stopping abruptly when she and Rachel came out of the room together, Monica's suitcase in her hand.

"Hey," he said, out of breath.

"Hey," she smiled weakly at him.

"I tried to get her to stay, we never get to see her," Rachel said, crossing her arms.

"I can't, Rach," she said, then looking forlornly at Chandler she whispered. "I wish I could."

He swallowed the lump in his throat and nodded, trying to catch his breath.

"I'll go with you to the airport," he said, suddenly, still a little breathless.

"Why?" Rachel asked.

"Because," he said, trying to think of an excuse while Monica grinned at him, her eyes shining, "because I…I didn't check there and Emily might be there!"

"Oh," Rachel said, nodding. "I guess Ross still wants to find her."

"Of course he wants to find…" Monica said, completely exasperated. "Rach!"

"Maybe I should go too," Rachel pondered. "I'm not doing any good here and…I miss you, Mon."

"I miss you, too, but…" she started, stealing a glance at Chandler, "I don't think _you_ running into Emily at the airport is going to make this situation better."

Chandler smirked at Monica.

"Oh, er, probably not," Rachel conceded.

"Yeah, probably not," Chandler chimed in. Rachel rolled her eyes at him.

"OK," she hugged Monica tight and pulled away with tears in her eyes. "Bye, Mon."

"Bye," she hugged her back, her voice catching.

Rachel walked back into the hotel room and shut the door.

Monica and Chandler stared at one another - a hundred questions flashing in each other's eyes.

"It's late…" Monica started, gripping her bag tighter as her palms started sweating.

"I know," Chandler nodded, finally breaking the eye contact.

He cleared his throat and turned in the direction of the elevator.

"You ready?" Chandler asked, trying to brace himself for another goodbye.

"Yes," she answered, not at all ready to go.

_**NOTE: I know you all want to kill Rachel, but come on, this is me. Did you really think I was gonna get them together right now?! We got a ways to go, folks, but I hope you continue to enjoy the journey :) BTW - your reviews are kinda blowing me away. I never thought I'd reach the 100 mark in 7 chapters…thank you!**_


	9. Chapter 9

The taxi ride to Heathrow was relatively quick - and drama free.

They talked about everything except what they needed to talk about.

It was easy for him to talk about the disaster of a wedding that had just occurred. It was easy for her to talk about the event she was in charge of in Florence the next day.

It was easy to avoid the subject…until the very last minute.

Until they were standing at the gate.

Until the plane was moments from boarding.

Then, suddenly, talking was more difficult.

And yet…

"So," she said, finally broaching the subject, twisting the handle of her carry-on with both hands. "What…happened this morning?"

"Ah…." he ran a hand through his hair and tried to think of a good excuse - anything to downplay it, anything to defuse the tension.

"Well, I guess I was cold and you were warm, so…" he smirked, and she ginned a little.

"Chandler?" she asked, trying to get him to be serious.

He sighed.

"I don't know, Mon," he said, starting to gesture with his hands in his nervousness. "I don't know…I mean, we were both tired and we'd been walking around the city and talking about, I don't know, love and stuff and maybe, ya know, we got confused…I…"

He shrugged.

She nodded. That made sense.

It made sense. Too many romance novels, indeed.

"Yeah," she said, still nodding, going along with it. "Yeah. I can…I can see that. I mean. We are, ya know, away…"

"...in a foreign, romantic country," he agreed enthusiastically.

"Right," she said, feeling relived and a little sad at the same time. "I mean, I…I blame London."

"Yes! Yes, bad London! Confusing us like that," he said, shaking his head.

"Yeah," she said, quietly, taking a deep breath as the call to board her flight was announced over the intercom. "Well, I guess that's my cue."

She put down her bag and stretched her arms out, smiling warmly at him. He grinned and stepped to her, pulling her into a friendly goodbye hug.

He tried hard not to breathe in too deep the scent of her hair as it tickled his chin. She tried hard not to feel how strong his arms were around her as he gave her a gentle squeeze goodbye.

She took one step away and looked up into his bright blue eyes. He couldn't read the expression in hers, but he thought she might be trying to decide something.

He held his breath.

"Listen…um," she said, blinking, trying to put together the words she wanted to say.

He looked at her, hopeful.

"Um…listen…take care of my brother for me, OK?" she said, instead.

He scoffed at that, feeling a little defeated, even though he wasn't sure why.

But, he rallied quickly.

"Taking care of people," he said with a grin. "That's your department."

She shook her head, then searched his face.

"You're really good at it," she said softly.

His eyes lit up just a bit at the sincerity in her voice.

"I'll do my best," he said quietly.

"Thank you," she whispered. "You're a…great…friend."

He smiled softly and pulled her back to him for another hug.

"You, too," he said, as he gently rubbed her back.

She closed her eyes.

Saying good-bye was not getting any easier. Prolonging it with another hug was not helping, yet they held on tight as another boarding call echoed around the gate.

She felt his arms relax a bit as she leaned back, her hands bracing his shoulders.

The thought that _really_ had been in her mind the last few moments was probably a bad idea - she knew that. It would just make her own emotions, and everything else for that matter, more complicated and disconcerting than it already was.

But…she wasn't sure when she would see him again…

And she wanted to know if what happened that morning was just a fluke - a result of her travel fatigue, overactive imagination and romantic heart. The inquiring yet calm look on his face told her he might be thinking something along those same lines.

"You know," she said softly, trying to sound casual and ignore her suddenly racing heart. "It's very common for…friends to…kiss…goodbye, in Europe."

She looked up into his eyes a moment before her gaze landed on his lips.

"Yeah?" he said, trying to keep his breathing even as he looked down at her, his arms still wrapped around her.

"Um hum," she murmured, her eyes glancing up at him.

"I suppose…when in Rome," he said, grinning a little.

She started to grin back when suddenly his lips were on hers, holding them steady against his own until she moved closer into him.

Their lips moved together - soft, gentle against one another. It was the sweetest kiss, the most bittersweet kiss…

They lingered there, savoring the taste and gentle feel of each other, their lips at times barely touching. At other moments fused together, never intending to separate. Her hands ran along his jaw, one of his hands was gripping her waist, the other moving slowly up her back.

Chandler's heart was hammering in his ears and he broke their kiss, before he let the already utter confusion in his mind spiral totally out of control.

They both gasped as he looked down at her face. Her eyes were still closed.

He just stared at her - completely terrified.

She slowly looked up at him with unfocused eyes, unable to describe what she was feeling. But she was definitely feeling things she had never felt before - including feeling about as shaken as he looked.

The leaving, the gazing, the holding, the kissing…it was all…overwhelming.

Tears stung the back of her eyes as she blinked rapidly and stepped away from him as the last boarding call was made.

"I have to go," she said almost automatically, taking another step back.

He nodded, licking his suddenly dry lips, digging his now empty hands deep into his pants pockets.

"Yeah," he said, a slight catch in his throat. He swallowed hard.

She bent down to grab her carry-on and looked at him one more time.

"Knock 'em dead tomorrow," he said, trying to sound relaxed. "Not actually…dead…that, that wouldn't be good..."

She smiled a little, still blinking back her tears, wave after wave of new, perplexing emotion crashing over her.

He grinned his little grin.

"Bye, Mon," he said softly, hoping she couldn't see how badly he was shaking inside - every organ in his body felt like it was ripping apart.

"Bye," she whispered, wondering vaguely if she would pass out from the head rush.

She turned and almost blindly stepped over to the gate, handed the attendant her ticket and headed straight for the gateway. At that same moment he turned swiftly and walked quickly toward the airport exit.

In the last 24 hours the feelings between them had been more intense than they had ever been in the previous 10 years of friendship combined.

Monica couldn't catch her breath as she made her way onto the plane, the pull to run back to him was so strong it almost overpowered all reason. Nearly gasping she threw her bag into the overhead compartment, then sat down and buckled her seatbelt - her distracted mind telling her that single action was the only thing keeping her from sprinting off the plane.

She was trembling. She crossed her legs and her arms and hugged them as tight as she could to her body in a feeble attempt to calm herself down.

He was her friend - her _friend_, she kept telling herself.

But…he was the friend that she'd spent time daydreaming was with her in Italy. The person who, if she was completely honest with herself, was the main reason she'd snuck away from the academy and come to London. And she had been more than ready to make love to him that morning if Joey hadn't interrupted them - and she still wanted to kiss him, desperately.

Why? Why was she feeling this way _now_?

"Insane," she breathed, looking out and seeing nothing as she gazed through the window. "This is insane…"

She jolted in her seat a little as the plane roughly pulled away from the gate.

She took a deep breath, even as her heart continued to hammer against her chest. She tried to refocus - she had a job to do. She had people counting on her.

In Italy.

Chandler pounded the handle to open the exit door at the other end of the airport and practically ran out into the heavy, misty London air. He just couldn't watch her leave again when his heart was begging him to run after her and make her come home.

Why in the hell _was_ that?!

This morning he was going to make love to her, there was no doubt. He'd done everything in his power to spend what little time he could with her before she left again and now…now they'd kissed like they'd been lovers for years.

How…when did _this_ happen?

He took as deep a breath as he could, then suddenly caught sight of a plane leaving a runway and soaring into the clouds.

It probably wasn't even her plane, but he felt his stomach drop anyway.

"Jesus Christ…" he breathed, leaning against an outside wall for support, his back falling heavily against it.

He dropped his head and rubbed his eyes with his palms, his mind swimming, feeling like he'd been hit by a freight train. He slapped his hands on his bent knees and stared straight ahead.

"What the hell?!" he whispered, at a complete loss to figure out the answer.

_**NOTE: Um…so yeah, I might have lied a little about the angst. I certainly didn't intend it originally - I just can't help it! Sorry! **_

_**So, so many thanks for your reviews. Please keep them up! :)**_


	10. Chapter 10

"You're in their honeymoon suite right now?" Monica asked, dumbfounded.

"Yes," Rachel said, hardly believing it herself. "I'm on standby. The earliest I might be able to make it home is tomorrow."

"Oh my God, Rachel…"

"I know, I know," Rachel sighed over the phone, throwing her head back on the pillows of the still-made bed in Athens. "I make really bad decisions."

"I'm not going to argue with that," Monica smirked, rubbing her feet as she sat on her own bed in Florence. The Sunday fundraiser had been a huge success in more ways than one - Turrico had been begrudgingly impressed and she'd been so incredible busy and exhausted that she'd barely any time to think of anything other than food and sleep for about 24 hours.

It was a nice respite from having Chandler and their kisses on her mind non-stop since she took off in London. But tonight he was making a roaring comeback in her head and she was grateful Rachel called her.

Though she had no idea she'd be calling her from Ross and Emily's honeymoon resort in Greece.

"What are you gonna do when you get home?"

"What can I do?" Rachel said, rubbing her temples. "I mean, he's married and desperately trying to stay that way. I mean, I'm pissed at him for leaving me at the airport, but if it was me he was married to then I'd expect him to run after me, too."

"You know there's not a part of that sentence that I understood," Monica said, smiling and yawning at the same time. Ten o'clock came early when you were this tired.

Despite herself, Rachel laughed.

"No kidding," she said. "Oh, I miss you, Mon. I'm bummed we didn't get to really spend any time together in London."

"I know, but at least I got to see you and I didn't think that would happen," Monica said. "I really thought I'd only see the guys."

"True," Rachel said. "Hey, I heard you took a midnight stroll around London with Chandler. Did you get to see anything?"

Monica's heartbeat tripled in an instant.

"Um, yeah, no, I mean, some…a little," she mumbled out. "We saw a few things..."

Rachel's gave a confused look to the phone when Monica didn't continue.

"Like…?"

"Oh, you know, the Thames, Big Ben," she said, willing herself to settle down. "Not much, ya know, it was dark."

Rachel nodded.

"You guys had to be exhausted," she said. "Chandler was beat when he got back from taking you to the airport. He went straight to his hotel room and I don't think came out all night."

Monica closed her eyes. _Well, kissing your best friend and recoiling in terror will do that to ya,_ she wanted to say.

"Yeah," Monica said quietly. "Yeah, it was a…long day."

"It was a long weekend!" Rachel said.

Monica just nodded, and yawned again.

"Your Sunday thing went OK?" Rachel asked, suddenly remembering why Monica was gone when she tried to call her yesterday.

"Yeah," Monica said, laying down on her bed. "Really great. I have some great people here to help."

"Good," Rachel said. "I guess this academy stuff is worth it, huh?"

_Depends on your definition of_ _worth it,_ Monica thought.

"Yeah, I guess so…" she said "Listen, call me when you get home, OK? I hope it's tomorrow."

"Me, too," Rachel said, yawning herself. It was 11 p.m. in Athens and her internal clock was all screwed up anyway. "I'll call you then. Bye, Mon. Miss you."

"You, too. Bye, Rach," Monica said, then hung up the phone and wrapped herself in her sheets, eyes wide open, body aching for rest as images of Chandler kept dancing around her mind.

###

_I am lost without you. _

_I am soulless, a drifter without a home, a solitary bird in a flight to nowhere. _

_I am all these things, and I am nothing at all. _

_This, my daring, is my life without you. _

_I long for you to show me how to live again, for you are my compass, my true North… _

Chandler slammed the book shut and laid back on the barca lounger in Apartment 20, squeezing his eyes closed.

He'd gone over to Rachel's apartment, she'd asked him to check on it while she was away on her unexpected journey to Greece, and saw her copy of "Message in a Bottle" sitting on the kitchen counter.

He grabbed it and started reading.

Why women read these books he'd never know, but he kept reading - about love and loss and loneliness and longing.

No wonder Monica had gotten confused and let him kiss her - twice.

That had to be it. It couldn't really be that she had feelings for him, at least not the same feelings he was having for her.

Why couldn't he get her out of his mind now - when she was thousands of miles away and would be for at least the next eight, nine months? She was gonna fall in love with some Italian guy - some Paulo-type dude, he just knew it - and their little whatever-in-the-hell it was would be barely a fuzzy memory from her past. For her.

For him? All it would do is remind him of how much he missed her while she was gone. How her lips had launched a dozen "what if" scenarios to race through his brain. And how, once again, timing was a real bitch.

She wasn't here. She was gone and she wasn't coming back - not for anyone and certainly not for him. From a career standpoint she was thriving in this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity she had. And even if he let that one little part of his heart think for a minute that she felt something for him, he wasn't about to do anything to make her come home. Come home why - because he missed her? Because he was probably confusing missing her with something more? Make her give up her future because he had this ache in his chest that didn't want to go away?

No, he wouldn't ask her to do that. Besides, no one had ever done that for him. No one in his life, including his parents, had surrendered their own future for him.

People didn't sacrifice for him. That was his job. And he'd learn to put London behind him. He'd find a way to make the ache go away.

He'd figure out a way to forget how she felt in his arms, how her lips felt on his, how he thought he would have a nervous breakdown watching the planes fly away one after another at Heathrow, wondering which one she was on.

Chandler let out a shuddery sigh and placed the book on the end table and walked over to the kitchen, looking into the empty fridge. He looked around - not a stitch of food in the whole place.

He put his hands on his hips and turned around. He cocked his head to one side. Purple. What man in his right mind lived in an apartment with purple walls?

Her apartment. Yeah, it had he and Joey's stuff in it, but it was her apartment. It still smelled like it did when she and Rachel lived there. And now he wanted to get away from that scent. He needed to get away from it - from the things that reminded him of her.

"Hi," Ross said in pathetic Ross fashion as he opened the door.

"Dude," Chandler said, as a little startled as he turned to him.

"I guess Rachel's not back yet?"

"Nope," Chandler said, sitting next Ross at the kitchen table. "She should be back any time now."

Ross nodded, slumping in his chair and staring into space.

"I can assume you never talked to Emily?" Chandler winced a little.

"No," Ross said, dejected. "No one in her family will take my calls."

"I still can't believe she can outrun you, man," Chandler chuckled.

"Hey, she's fast OK," Ross exploded. "You and me, outside, right now!"

"Hey, hey," Chandler said, putting his hands up. _Take care of my brother,_ Monica's words echoed in his mind. "Hey, I'm sorry, OK. Sorry. Really…"

"No," Ross shook his head, sighing heavily. "I'm just…I just never imagined life could go from great and easy to shitty and...complicated so fast, ya know?"

"Yeah," Chandler said, nodding in complete understanding. "Yeah, I really do…"

###

She twisted further into his body as he held her tight against him, his lips on her neck, his weight pushing against her.

"Chandler…" she moaned.

She felt his lips across her throat, then engulfing her mouth in a breathtaking kiss before shifting on top of her, his eyes staring into hers.

"I want you…" he breathed before capturing her lips again.

Monica moaned and felt her hands gripping harder, harder, trying to pull herself closer to him.

She gasped for air as his head ducked down, feeling the whisper of his breath against her stomach, his fingertips playing at the top of her thighs.

"Chandler, please…" she begged, feeling the tension in her already about to break.

She squeezed her closed eyes tight and felt him smile as he pushed against her.

She turned her head and groaned loudly into her pillow, barely breathing as her eyes shot open.

Monica looked around at the dark silence of her room, breathing heavily.

She was wrapped up tight in her bed sheets - they'd gotten twisted around her in her sleep - as she'd thrashed around her bed, her damp hair playing the part of his lips, her sheets pretending to be his arms.

Dreaming of Chandler.

Monica untangled herself and laid back, trying to get her breathing under control.

She thought about him during the day and now he was filling her subconscious at night.

Great.

Her eyes filled with tears as she looked at the clock beside her. It was 2:30 a.m. on a Wednesday.

It wasn't too late to call him, to tell him she wanted him.

To tell him she couldn't stop thinking about him.

To tell him she wanted to come home.

To…completely freak him out. Completely.

Sabotage her career, let down Vanessa and everyone else, and completely send her best friend - not to mention the healthiest relationship she had in her life - into a tailspin in the process.

No. She couldn't do that. She wouldn't do that, but…this feeling was too much. It was all too much, and it wouldn't go away.

She turned to her side as a tear fell down onto her pillow.

"Oh, Chandler…" she whispered softly. "I miss you."

_**NOTE: Just a little break there for a few days. We're about half-way there. (Yes, really, only half-way) :) THANK YOU for your reviews - y'all rock!**_


	11. Chapter 11

"Really?!" Rachel said with a burst of excitement that was hard to describe.

"What?!" Joey said, with as much gusto and much less enthusiasm. "Whatta mean we're gonna switch the apartments back?!"

"I think…I just think it would be nice since, ya know, Ross abandoned Rachel on a plane to Greece," Chandler said, gesturing with his hands. "I mean, hasn't she suffered enough? She shouldn't have to live in that apartment anymore."

"Yes, yes I have suffered," she said dramatically, nodding to Joey.

"No!" Joey said, bouncing up from his chair and pointing to Chandler. "You said it yourself, we won this apartment fair and square and Monica…"

"She's not here!" Chandler shouted, making Joey step back just a bit and taking Rachel by surprise.

Chandler blinked rapidly a few times, fighting for control. He put his hands on his hips.

"She's not here and…and Rachel shouldn't have to…to live there. It wasn't her idea…it was Mon…Monica's and…she's gone!" he said quickly, knowing his voice was more full of emotion than the situation warranted. "She left us…all…here so we can do whatever in the hell we want and I want to move back across the hall!"

He was breathing heavily now. He turned and looked out the window, crossing his arms in front of him.

He had to get out of there - he just had to get out of her apartment as fast as possible.

"OK," Joey said quietly, tentatively patting his best friend on the shoulder. "OK, we'll move back."

"When?" Chandler shot back quickly.

"I don't know…soon?"

"Tonight," he countered. "Let's just…tonight."

"Chandler…" Joey said, completely at a loss to explain his now-frequently moody friend's latest outburst.

Rachel just stared at Chandler - it really wasn't at all like him to show a temper like this.

"Joey," Rachel said, clearing her throat. "Don't you have a date?"

"Um…yeah," he said, looking at the clock and backing away from Chandler. "Is…is tomorrow OK, man?"

Chandler's shoulders slumped.

"Yeah," he said, turning to his friends and trying to smile a little. "Of course. Yeah, I just…I'm just…over the purple walls."

Joey and Rachel grinned at his attempt at a joke.

"I'm sorry," he sighed, looking down and shuffling his feet.

Joey patted him on the back and shot a worried glance at Rachel. She nodded and Joey turned to leave.

Rachel placed a hand on Chandler's shoulder.

"We can start moving stuff whenever you want," she said softly.

"Yeah?" Chandler's eyes lit up. "That'd be…that'd be good."

She nodded.

"But, can I ask you one question?"

He looked at her, uneasy.

"Yyy…yes."

"Why?"

He stepped away from her and walked over to remove a wall hanging.

"I told you why…"

"No, you gave me a reason, but you didn't tell me 'why'…"

Chandler shrugged.

"It's just time," he said. "It's just time to move on…or have…have everything back the way it was. I…I don't know."

He took down the wall hanging and went for another.

Rachel didn't say anything as she walked to the kitchen and started pulling clean towels out of a drawer and moving items from the shelves, setting everything on the counters.

They worked quietly for a long time, Rachel's mind working overtime.

_Something_ happened in London.

She didn't know _what_ happened, but something had. Monica had acted all weird when she asked her about it, too.

And now Chandler couldn't seem to get out of Monica's apartment fast enough - and it sounded like he was angry with her.

She wondered if they'd gotten into a fight.

"Did you see anything besides the resort in Greece?"

Rachel had been so deep in thought she didn't even see Chandler come into the kitchen as he set some VCR tapes on the foosball table.

"Ha, no," she said, shaking her head. "Their honeymoon suite and the airport. I saw the Parthenon from the plane."

"Ugh," he grimaced, shaking his head.

"Eh, at least the ticket was free," she said, with a wave of her hand.

He chuckled at that.

Rachel grinned.

"So, um, did you see much of London while you were there?" she said carefully, placing silverware in a paper bag. "I only saw the church, the airport of course and, ya know, the Waltham house."

She paused, then added. "I could write a travel guide for these places, huh?"

When she didn't hear the sarcastic comeback she half expected to, she looked up.

Chandler's face had clouded over.

Good God, _what_ had happened in London?!

"Ahhh…no," he said, clearing his throat. "No, not much. I didn't see much…"

Rachel eyed him suspiciously.

"Yeah, I mean, Big Ben, ah…the Globe Theatre," he said, not meeting her eyes. "Ya know, the usual stuff."

"With Monica?"

Chandler froze.

He looked at Rachel and swallowed hard.

He nodded and briefly closed his eyes.

"With Monica…" he said quietly.

Rachel studied his face. She hadn't seen that look on his face since he broke up with Kathy…

_Oh my God!_

Chandler and Monica?

Chandler and Monica!

Joey had told her that Chandler and Monica had walked around the city the night before the wedding, and that he found Chandler in Monica's hotel room the next morning, but only because Joey was "busy" in their room.

It didn't seem _that_ strange at the time, but now…

Was it possible that Monica and Chandler had _hooked up_ in London?!

Rachel sat down, her gossip-loving mind slowly wrapping around that new thought.

Chandler shot her a bemused look.

"Done enough work already?" he smirked.

"Chandler, talk to me," she said, tugging on his hand.

He pulled it back, the humor leaving his face.

"Wha…what do you want to talk about?"

"Chandler…"

"Look, Rach, there's nothing to talk about OK? Nothing! We saw Big Ben, a palace, the Thames, I mean, that's it," he said in a rush.

"But…"

"No!" he said, his voice raised again. Then he said in a quieter tone. "There is no 'but.' That's it."

He turned then and walked back to the other side of the living room.

Rachel gave his back a frustrated look and sighed.

"'That's it' my ass," she mumbled to herself, randomly throwing spoons into a bag.

###

"Wow, that was fast!" said a very pregnant Phoebe when she stepped into the old Joey and Chandler apartment two days later.

"Yep!" Chandler said, smiling.

"Singing guy is still there!" Joey said excitedly, coming out of his bedroom and heading for the bathroom. All-in-all he was happy to be back home.

Chandler smiled to himself. It felt like normal again.

_It felt like normal again…_

_It felt like normal again…_

Maybe if he said it enough it would come true, he thought. Maybe the pit in his stomach would go away.

It had to eventually.

It had to.

"So," Phoebe said, carefully lowering herself on a kitchen stool. "Are you seeing Marjorie again?"

"Yeah," he said with a clap. "Yep. Sure am. Tonight…"

"Oh, that's good!" Phoebe said. "You haven't seen her since you came home, have you?"

"Nope," he said, picking up his briefcase.

"Well, good for you - and do you see a future with her?"

His heart slammed against his chest and he shuddered.

"We've been on, like, six dates," he said, annoyed. "What's with the third degree?"

"Geez," she said, putting her hands up. "I was just asking. Six dates is a lot for you…"

"Thanks, Pheebs…"

"I'm teasing," she said, eyeing him closely. "I'm sure she's a fine woman."

Fine. Yeah, Marjorie was…eh.

"Yeah, fine," he shrugged, stuffing one hand in his pocket, avoiding her gaze.

"Has she stopped screaming in bed, I mean when she's not supposed to," Phoebe said, with a wink.

Chandler winced and shook his head.

"Sounds like true love to me," Phoebe said, rolling her eyes.

Chandler shot her a look.

"As much as I would love to stay here and have you pick apart my love life…"

"Just living vicariously…"

He waved his hand.

"I gotta get to work," he said, picking up his briefcase and heading for the door.

He almost ran into Rachel as he left.

"Hey, Chandler."

"Happy to be back with the purple walls?" he teased.

"Oh, so happy!" she said, as she hugged him. "It's good to be home again!"

He gave her a smile as she brushed past him and into his apartment to check on Phoebe.

She'd left the door open to hers.

He glanced in and saw the French poster above the TV, the green ottoman at the corner of the area rug, the arm of the white couch…

It looked just like it did when Monica still lived there.

He shook his head and smacked his forehead with his hand, cursing himself for thinking changing apartments would make the ache go away.

"Rach," he called, walking over to close her door. "You shouldn't leave the door wide open when you're not there."

"Oh, but I…"

"Just…close it," he demanded and slammed it shut with a bang.

Taking a deep breath he turned toward the landing, leaving Phoebe, Rachel and Joey looking at one another.

Before he started down the stairs he heard a collective gasp and Rachel squeal, "Phoebe!"

He hurried back into the apartment.

"What's wrong?"

Joey squished up his face in disgust as Rachel helped their pregnant friend off the wet stool.

Phoebe was soaked.

"I'm pretty sure my water just broke," she said.

_**NOTE: They'll be another little break now for a few days. I know I sound like a broken record but thank you so much for your reviews. They mean so much to me. And, yes, I know we still have a long way to go, but the cocky little writer in me is pretty sure you'll think it's worth it in the end. ;) Thank you!**_


	12. Chapter 12

"They're so beautiful, Mon," Rachel said.

"Oh, I bet they are," Monica breathed, hugging her knees to her chest as she sat on her bed, tears in her eyes. "How's Phoebe doing…giving them up?"

Rachel sighed.

"Not…great," she said, clearing her throat. "There are a lot of hormones…at least she gets to see them and watch them grow up, ya know? She's still in their lives."

Monica nodded, her heart aching for her friend.

"So, Chandler was a girl?" she asked after a moment.

"Yeah," Rachel laughed. "Oh, and it was so cute, Mon, Chandler was holding little baby-girl Chandler. We took a picture, it was so adorable!"

Monica's breath caught as that image flashed through her mind. Chandler holding a baby in his arms, smiling down at his namesake. It was almost too much for her to take. She cleared her throat, hugging her legs tighter to her.

"He didn't freak out, huh?" she said, trying to make her voice sound light.

"Not even a little bit and that was kinda freaky," she said.

Monica laughed a little. "Is everybody still there?"

"Joey is, but we're getting ready to leave in a couple minutes, Phoebe is resting," Rachel said. "Ross went home to try to call Emily again and Chandler had a date."

"Oh," Monica said, as she straightened her legs and sat up straight in bed. "Oh, yeah…Marjorie right?"

"Yeah," Rachel said quietly, squeezing her eyes shut.

She stomped her foot in disgust at herself - why did she say that?!

"Well, good for him," Monica said quietly, her heart racing. "Listen, Rach, it's 3 in the morning here and I have to be up in a couple hours. Give Phoebe my love, OK? And thanks for calling me."

"Oh…OK, of course," Rachel said, still cursing herself. "Bye, Mon."

"Bye."

Monica put the phone down and slowly climbed out of her bed.

Quietly she made her way down the stairs to the kitchen, turned on a small light and grabbed some water out of their mini-fridge.

She sank down in a kitchen chair and stared out a dark window, her eyes bright.

"I thought I heard you down here," Vanessa said quietly.

"Sorry if the phone woke you up," she whispered, quickly wiping a tear from her eye. "That was Rachel. Phoebe had the babies."

"Everything alright?" Vanessa asked pensively, seeing that Monica was upset.

"Oh yeah, yes," she said, with a little smile. "Sorry. Yes, everyone's healthy - two girls and a boy."

"Oh that's good," Vanessa said, grabbing the latest stash of Twinkies and a water for herself before sitting down at the table. She glanced at Monica. "Sorry you missed it."

"Me, too," Monica said, she swallowed hard. "It was supposed to be two boys and a girl. But Chandler was a girl."

"Chandler?"

"Yeah," she said, tears forming in her eyes again. "Phoebe named one of the babies after Chandler. They decided to keep the name."

Monica's voice was barely a whisper and Vanessa was straining to hear. She just nodded.

"He's on a date," Monica whispered again.

"Who?"

"Chandler…"

"Mr. Blue Eyes?"

"I wish you'd never said that…" Monica glared at Vanessa, her eyes red from holding back her tears.

"I'm…sorry?" Vanessa said, more than a little confused at this point.

"No, it's….oh, God," Monica said, standing and leaning against the little counter in the kitchen.

She closed her eyes and wrapped her arms around herself.

"It's not your fault," she said, her eyes still closed. "It's mine."

"What is?"

"Oh, just," she waved her hand and looked down, "ya know, falling in love with him."

Vanessa nodded, relieved - it was about time Monica admitted it.

"The way you talk about him, and just by how darned…supportive he is," she said, "Hell, I'm practically in love with him and I don't even know him."

Monica smiled just a little at that.

"I'm not surprised."

"Well, I sure as hell am," Monica said, grabbing a Twinkie. She sat down again.

Vanessa patted her arm.

"Did…did something happen with you two in London?" she asked. "It's none of my business, I know, but lordy I don't care!"

Monica grinned again as her eyes watered once more.

"No. I mean, we stayed up all night talking and walked around the city," she said, wiping the tears as they quickly started to fall. Vanessa handed her a napkin.

"We got back to the hotel really late and we were so tired," she said, between shaky breaths. "He stayed in my room."

Vanessa raised her eyebrows.

"Joey was…occupied in theirs and so I told him he could stay with me. It's not like we've never slept in the same room - even the same bed - before," she said, wiping her eyes. "We started off on the opposite sides of the bed…"

"Ya'll didn't end up that way?" Vanessa said, quietly, when Monica didn't finish her thought.

Monica shook her head and clutched the balled-up napkin in her hand as she bit her thumbnail, willing the tears to stop.

"We didn't…" she choked out, almost in a whisper. "He was just…holding me…"

Monica closed her eyes tight, the memory of waking up with him that morning tugging so hard on her heart she could hardly breathe. She didn't even let her mind think of their kiss at the airport or she knew she would completely lose it.

Finally she let out a strangled laugh, looking down and fingering the Twinkie wrapper.

"You know, he asked me last year if he was 'boyfriend material,'" she said quietly, remembering Montauk. "He actually offered to be my boyfriend and I…I turned him down."

"You can't be serious!"

"Oh, yes, yes I am," Monica said, ruefully, her voice thick. "I thought he was joking and…he probably was. I'd just gotten out of a relationship and…but…I couldn't even imagine it then. I mean I said 'no' because…he's Chandler. He's _Chandler_?! I mean, what was that?! What kind of _reason_ is that?!"

She put both elbows on the table and laid her forehead in her hands, her head was pounding.

Vanessa shook her head sadly.

"Oh honey, I'm so sorry," she said, sympathetically. "Sometimes we…just don't see who's right in front of us until he's not right in front of us anymore."

Monica sniffed back her tears and stood up, leaning against the counter again.

"Well, I _really_ I blew my chance, didn't I?" she said, twisting the napkin in her hands, eyes glistening. "It's pretty impossible now. I'm here, he's there…he's dating…"

She shrugged, her entire body aching. She sighed heavily.

"I don't know…maybe I'm just homesick?" she said, voice shaking. "Looking at…him…everything, through rose-colored glasses…maybe?"

Vanessa didn't think so, but she shrugged in half-hearted agreement.

If the lovesick woman before her needed to rationalize her feelings to stay sane, she wasn't going to stop her.

Monica took a deep breath and threw the napkin away.

"I'm going to get over it," she said, with a determined nod. "You know, what happened, just…it was kinda, just one night, right? I just have to…work hard and do what I came here to do and…and forget about all this."

Vanessa smiled a little at her and nodded. "Sure."

Then she pulled her into a hug.

"I can do it," Monica said, her voice trembling. "I got over Richard. I got over Pete. I can…I can get over him…"

"Whoa," Vanessa said, pulling away from the hug, "darlin', that sounds like a whole other story!"

Monica smiled weakly at her.

"Not now…"

Vanessa nodded and put away the Twinkies as Monica slowly made her way back up the stairs.

###

"Sorry I'm late," Chandler said, giving Marjorie a small smile and picking up his menu.

"I was getting a little worried," she said, a frown on her face. "Everything OK?"

"Yeah, a friend of mine just had triplets," he said, his eyes wide. "I was at the hospital…"

"Oh, that would suck," she mused, interrupting him and taking a sip of her water.

He looked at her sharply.

"I mean, that's a lot of diapers," she said, putting her glass down. "My sister-in-law has twins and, let me tell you, they are A LOT of work. So whatta want to order?"

"Er…um…I don't know," he said, pretending to scan the menu.

"The filet is really good," she said. "Or surf and turf…"

He snapped his menu closed.

"Are you ready?" she asked, with a small smile.

He shook his head.

"I'm sorry," he said, putting his menu down.

She gave him a quizzical look.

God, what in the hell was he doing here?

All he could think about was Monica and how he wished she was sitting across from him.

She'd understand all about the triplets. She'd understand how hard it was going to be to take care of triplets and not even bat an eye. She'd understand Phoebe being brokenhearted about giving them away. She'd understand what holding baby-girl Chandler meant to him.

And she'd understand it all without him having to say one word about it.

He looked at the woman across from him, and he sure as hell didn't feel anything.

Maybe he wasn't able to be with Monica, but he certainly didn't want to be with _her_.

"This," he said, motioning between them, "isn't going to work."

"Chandler?"

"I'm sorry, Marjorie," he said, shaking his head. "You're a…nice person but…but before this goes any further…I just…I can't…do this. I thought I could but I can't…"

"Do what?" she said, confused.

He stood up and pushed in his chair.

"I'm…look…you'll be just fine," he said. "Um…I'm sorry. I gotta go."

He then quickly turned on his heels and walked out the door.

###

"I'm really sorry, Pheebs," Monica said, sympathetically.

Phoebe wiped her eyes as she sat in her apartment. She'd been home from the hospital a little less than a week and was still going through postpartum, hormonal mood swings.

"It's not at all like giving up a puppy," Phoebe said, attempting a laugh. Monica smiled at the other end of the phone. She'd talked to Phoebe once in the hospital and once since she was home. She'd been so busy in Italy she'd barely had time to talk to anyone else back home for a couple weeks. Chandler had called once and she'd called him, both leaving messages for each other. They hadn't actually connected, and it was both a relief and a heartache for her.

Monica missed talking to him so much it was painful, but she needed space to get over him. To get over what happened between them in London - to allow herself to move on. When she was working, it wasn't so hard. She had other things to focus on.

It was every other moment of the day when it was difficult.

Very difficult.

Though not as difficult as what Phoebe was going through, so when her friend had called her from New York today she knew she had to make the time to listen.

"Yeah, but at least you get to be the cool aunt, remember?" Monica said, trying to cheer her up.

"I know, I know, but it's not the same," Phoebe said, wiping her eyes again. "I mean, imagine you were…ya know, with someone every day for like, forever, and then one day you just, you give them up, ya know? They were a part of you and all of a sudden they aren't there and…yes, you are still in their life and, yes, you still get to see them but, ya know, it's not the same. It's all, just, different. It sucks."

Tears filled Monica's eyes. She knew Phoebe was talking about the babies, and her heart went out to her, but she the face she saw in her mind was Chandler's.

"Yeah…it does suck," Monica said quietly, a catch in her throat. "It sucks a lot."

"Oh," Phoebe said, fresh batch of tears in her eyes. "Mon, I'm sorry. It's like you and Italy and leaving…oh!"

Monica cleared her throat - that was a pretty good parallel, too.

"Kinda, yeah," she said, tears in her voice, all sorts of homesick emotions hitting her all at once.

"Now I've brought you down with me," Phoebe said, sighing. "I didn't mean to share my overabundance of post-labor hormones with you."

Monica gave her a watery chuckle.

Phoebe smiled a little. "Ah we're a mess, huh?"

"Yeah," Monica said, grabbing a tissue next to the picture of the gang on her dresser. "We sure are…"

"Well," Phoebe rallied, "at least when you do come home again you'll actually be coming home."

"Whatta mean?"

"The apartments," Phoebe said, surprised Monica didn't know. "Rachel and the guys switched back apartments right before the triplets were born."

"You're kidding!"

"No, Chandler didn't mention it?" Phoebe asked, surprised since Monica and Chandler had talked frequently since she went to Italy.

"I haven't talked to Chandler since…" Monica said, closing her eyes. "Rach didn't say anything when I talked to her last, either."

"Oh…well, you know, you've um, been busy there and with the time difference and, ya know, the babies, it's been busy here. It probably just wasn't that big of a deal," Phoebe said, her curiosity piqued. "You haven't talked to Chandler since when, now?"

"Um…London," Monica said, her heart beginning to pound.

"What…why? Did something happen?"

Phoebe knew full-well something had - at least that's what Rachel thought. The two had talked about it at the hospital. Rachel was convinced that something had happened in London between Monica and Chandler. Phoebe didn't find it that far-fetched in the least, telling her she thought Chandler's feelings for their friend had grown since she left in September.

"No!" Monica said quickly. "No, just, same reasons - busy, time difference..."

Phoebe nodded, not buying that explanation for one minute, but figuring she shouldn't press her anymore about it at the moment - seeing as how she'd already made her cry once on this particular call.

"So, what _is_ new there?" she asked. "It sounds like you're busy 24/7."

"Pretty much," she said, thankful for the change in subject.

"Meet any hot Italian guys?" Phoebe asked, hormones forgotten for the moment as she stirred the pot a little.

"No…" Monica said, then hesitated.

Phoebe noticed that sight hesitation.

"No?"

"Nope, not really, um…too busy," Monica replied. She didn't want to tell Phoebe about Kevin, who had out-of-the-blue asked her out just that afternoon. She didn't commit to accepting his offer, but she was thinking maybe she should. Maybe it would speed the currently stalled "getting-over-Chandler" process along a little.

Maybe, she thought, it was exactly what she needed.

_**NOTE: Time sped up again, I know, but there's a good reason. We're getting kinda close to an important Mondler holiday - and that's all I'm gonna say about that. ;) Thanks for your reviews! **_


	13. Chapter 13

Chandler glanced at the clock on his nightstand.

5:34 a.m.

Five days.

It had been five days since he called her back and left a message.

It had been nine days since she'd called him and left a message.

It had been 15 days since he called her the first time.

And it had been 21 days since they kissed in the airport in London.

They hadn't had a conversation of any kind for three weeks. Three weeks. And it was killing him. He didn't care if they talked about the weather. He didn't care if she'd started speaking Italian. He just wanted to hear her voice.

He knew she was OK. She'd talked to Phoebe a couple times and Ross and Rachel at least once. And he knew the academy was taking up all of her time.

But he also knew, without a doubt, she was avoiding him.

He'd freaked her out. London had freaked her out. Hell, they'd freaked each other out, but they were still friends. At least, God, he hoped so. Losing her…he didn't want to think about what losing her friendship would do to him. He desperately wanted them to be able to move past what happened between them because if it didn't mean anything to her, he was going to find a way to be OK with that.

But he wouldn't be OK with losing her completely.

He glanced at the clock again. He walked out to the living room, grabbed the phone, and headed back into his bedroom.

If she had a lunch break, she might just be back at her house right about now, and he dialed the numbers from memory.

Monica had buttoned up her coat and had one foot out the door when the phone rang. She glanced at the clock in the kitchen and furrowed her brow.

"Hello?" she answered.

"Hey," he croaked out, having not used his voice yet that morning.

"Chandler?" she asked, sitting down slowly in one of the kitchen chairs. "Is everything OK?"

"Yeah," he said, clearing his throat. "Yeah, everything's OK."

She glanced at the clock again.

"Why…" she started, swallowing heavily. "Why are you calling so early…for you?"

"I just…I wanted to try to catch you at home," he said, staring out his window in the dark. "I, uh, I know you're busy. Is this a bad time?"

"Ahh," she said, tears springing to her eyes at the sadness in his voice. "No…I know. I'm sorry I haven't…called you back I just…things have been crazy here and I just…"

"It's OK," he said, somewhat relieved that she had at least planned on calling him at some point. "You're in demand, that's what happens when you're, ya know, the leader…"

"Yeah," she smiled softly. "How are you?"

"I'm good, good," he said. "You?"

"Good, busy…" she replied, feeling the awkward silence between them.

"Yeah," he nodded, his mind completely blanking on what else to say.

"So, um, Phoebe said you switched apartments back," she said, finally.

"Yeah," he said, crossing his legs on his bed. "I mean, a real man can only live with purple walls for so long…"

"You could have painted then," she smirked.

"And then you would have killed me," he grinned.

She giggled a little.

"I would have just made you paint them again."

"See," he said, relaxing into the conversation. "It was easier just to move."

She smiled, feeling the familiar warmth of talking with him flow through her body once again.

"Rachel does have a roommate now, though."

"What?!" Monica asked, completely confused and a little miffed. "Who?!"

"As of last night, your brother," he said.

"No!"

"Oh yeah."

"Why?"

"Emily's cousin kicked him out of the sublet."

"Didn't he sign a lease?"

"'Who needs a lease when it's family' I think were his exact words," he chuckled.

Monica sighed.

"That's just a recipe for disaster right there," she said.

"Pardon the pun?"

She smiled, "pardon the pun."

He grinned.

"Yeah, it didn't sound like a great idea to me either, but he needed a place, so…"

Monica shook her head and rolled her eyes. The drama of Ross and Rachel carried on without her.

She glanced at the clock again. Damn. She wanted to stay on the phone. She wanted to just listen to his voice, but she really had to get back to the school.

"Chandler, I'm sorry but I really do have to cut this short," she sighed.

"Oh," he said, disappointed.

"Turrico is expecting me in his office at Noon."

"Why?"

"I don't have any idea," she sighed. "Things are going really well, so I assume it's just more work he wants to pile on me."

He grimaced a little.

"Are you…still…do you still enjoy it? The cooking, I mean?"

"Yeah," she said, with a smile, remembering their conversation a couple days before she left. "It's, the pace, has been…hard, but yeah."

"'The hard makes it great,'" he said, smirking.

"Thank you, Tom Hanks," she smiled.

He grinned and nodded to himself.

"OK, I'll let you go," he said. "I hope we can talk again…soon."

"We will," she nodded. "I promise."

"OK, well I'm gonna hold you to that, 'cause…"

"Chandler?" she interrupted.

"Yeah?"

She took a deep breath, closing her eyes.

"I miss you," she said, softly.

His heart slammed against his chest, as he let those words wash over him.

"I miss you, too," he whispered.

"Bye," she breathed, after a moment, a hitch in her voice.

"Bye, Mon."

She put the phone down, picked up her bag and walked out the door towards the school, her heart pounding hard and her eyes bright with tears.

###

Chandler was shaking as he put the phone back in its cradle in the kitchen, then jumped as Joey came walking out of the bathroom and flipped on the living room light.

"Who was that?" Joey said, crossing his arms.

"Who was who?" he said, feigning confusion, dramatically shielding his eyes from the brightness.

"On the phone? Who were you talking to at (he glanced at the microwave) 5:45 in the morning?"

"I wasn't on the phone."

"The walls are pretty thin, man, " Joey said.

"Yes, I'm well aware," Chandler said, giving him an exasperated look.

Joey just looked expectantly back at him.

"Monica," he admitted, trying to keep all emotion out of his voice.

"Oh," Joey said, nodding, figuring that was who it was. "Good. Did you guys work it out?"

Chandler looked at him pensively.

"Work what out?" he asked, nervously, gesturing with his hands. "What do we have to work out? There's nothing to work out…"

"Then why have you been stomping around here all mad since we got back from London?"

"I haven't been…stomping."

"Ok, maybe not stomping but all…upset," Joey said, furrowing his eyebrows. "What happened between you two?"

Chandler's face went white.

"What do you mean?" he said, his voice low. "Nothing happened…"

"You haven't talked to her in weeks and you were on the phone with her about every other day before that," Joey said. "I saw the phone bill. Man, I'm glad I don't have to pay that..."

Joey chuckled and Chandler rolled his eyes.

"Did you two get into a fight or something?" Joey asked, serious again.

"No, of course not," he said, starting to walk past him to the bathroom. "Nothing happened, Joe, just leave it."

Joey grabbed his arm and Chandler yanked it away as they stared each other down.

"No," Joey said. "I'm not gonna 'just leave it.' Tell me what's going on!"

The tension was high and Chandler's emotions were already on the edge. He felt like he was going to crack - and he finally did.

"I kissed her, OK?!" Chandler blurted out, feeling a long, ironic wave of relief crash over him.

"Whoa…" Joey said, stepping back, eyes wide. "Are you serious?!"

"Yes," Chandler said, tying his robe tighter around his waist. "It didn't…it meant nothing…"

"When?" Joey asked, breathlessly. "This is huge!"

"No, it's not! It's not, Joey!" he said, his fists balled in front of his face, trying to figure out how he let those words leave his mouth in the first place.

"Oh my God…" Joey was shocked.

"Joey, Joey, please, for the love of God, please don't tell anyone I told you this, OK? Please, I'm beggin' ya here, please!"

The look in Chandler's eyes was desperate, pleading with him to agree.

Chandler started pacing around the living room. "It was just…we were sleeping and I…we woke up…together and…I was confused and I guess…I leaned over to kiss her cheek, that's it and then she turned at the same time and I…we…"

Joey just stared at him, then came to a slow realization.

"So, when I was knocking on her hotel door, you two were…"

"Stop," Chandler said quickly, putting his hand to his forehead. He could barely think about that moment himself, he didn't want Joey to say anything about it. "Just, stop right there, please."

Joey's eyes were wide.

"Wow," he said, voice full of awe. "And she didn't slap you, huh?"

Chandler just looked at him.

"No, she didn't slap you…" Joey whispered as he sunk in his chair and it slowly sank in that Chandler and Monica were making out when he found them that morning.

They were both quiet for a couple moments, processing everything.

"But it was just that morning, right?" Joey asked, trying to push the image of Chandler and Monica making out far away from his brain. "It was probably weird, yeah, but it just happened that one time, right? I mean, it can happen. It really isn't a big deal once, with a friend. I mean, ya know…"

He looked up at Chandler, who had closed his eyes and had a pained expression on his face.

"Nooo!" Joey said, jumping up out of his seat.

"The airport," Chandler said quietly, miserably. "We…kissed again at the airport…in London."

"Whoa…whoa! Wha…what does this mean?!"

"Nothing!" Chandler said, gesturing with his hands, looking Joey in the eye. "It means nothing."

"Did it _feel_ like it meant nothing?" Joey said, crossing his arms, skeptical look on his face. "You've been moping around here like a lovesick…is that why we moved back in here?!"

"Joe…"

"Chandler, this is…you have to…"

"No!" he said, definitively. "I have to do nothing. Just get over it. I just, I miss her. That's it. That's all it is and…and I'm not…I'm not gonna lose her as a friend just because we…I got confused one day in London."

Joey was silent and Chandler sighed.

"We just had our first real conversation since…then," he said, sounding relieved. "I'll get…past it. It's just gonna take some…time…that's all."

Joey scoffed.

"I have to, Joe," he said, sad eyes glancing at their closed apartment door. "Just, please, promise me you won't say a word to _anyone_."

Joey didn't even have the heart to protest.

"Yeah…alright."

"Thanks," Chandler smiled a little and continued on to the bathroom.

Joey flopped back into his chair.

"Oh my God…" he whispered, shaking his head.

_**NOTE: The reference to Tom Hanks is from his character in "A League of Their Own," one of my favorite quotes in one of my favorite baseball movies. This has been lots of fun to write…hope you're still enjoying it. As always, your feedback is awesome. Thank you!**_


	14. Chapter 14

"I just don't think he should be alone on Thanksgiving," Joey said in Ross and Rachel's apartment a couple days later.

"I know" Rachel said, pacing a little. She knew she couldn't get out of her plans. Once Rachel's mother heard Monica wasn't going to be home for Thanksgiving she'd planned a holiday overnight for her and her daughters, and Rachel felt obligated to go.

"Why shouldn't he be alone on Thanksgiving?" Ross asked. "He hates Thanksgiving."

"I know," Joey shrugged. "Just, with Monica being gone…"

He stopped speaking at the curious looks on Rachel and Phoebe's faces, and the confused look on Ross's.

"Oh, yeah, we know, the whole 'parents' divorce' story," Phoebe said, with a wave of her hand, trying to deflect attention but making a mental note to ask Joey later what he knew about Monica and Chandler.

"And there was the year Monica cut off his toe," Ross nodded, nonchalantly pulling bottled water out of the fridge.

"What?!" Three sets of eyes turned to him, surprised.

"Yeah," he said, "you didn't know about that?"

"Oh, I forgot about that!" Rachel said, face turning a little red. She now remembered why Monica had been so mad at Chandler that year, and how awful she felt for having cut off his toe.

"It was just the tip," Ross shrugged as the apartment door opened.

"Hello, children," Chandler said, coming through the door.

They all were staring at his feet.

"What?!"

"So, you have half a toe, dude?" Joey asked. "How come I never noticed that?"

"Ah…the worst of all pilgrim holidays," Chandler said with a head nod. "Yet another reason to despise that day. I'm…glad I have a reason to boycott it this year…"

'Glad' wasn't really the right word. All things being equal he'd be happy to spend the day like the gang had the last couple years. But without Monica in New York, he'd just as soon ignore it altogether.

"Why don't you just come out to my parents' place tomorrow?" Joey said.

"Ah…no," Chandler said, massaging his jaw. "I don't think Mary-Alice wants to see me."

"I'm gonna go out to my Mom and Dad's with Ben after the parade," Ross offered. "You've been there before, I'm sure they'd be, um, OK with you coming again."

Chandler wasn't one-hundred percent comfortable around the Gellers to being with, and the thought of being at their house without Monica wasn't a pleasant one.

He shook his head. "Nah, thanks…"

"Oh, come with me to Frank and Alice's," Phoebe said, excitedly. "We'll outnumber the babies!"

"God, no!" Chandler said quickly. "I mean, thanks Pheebs, but I don't think so. Guys, listen, I'll be fine. This is great, actually, I'll have the day to myself, ya know, watch some football…"

"…you mean some Die Hard…" Rachel smirked.

"Maybe," he said, with a smile. "Thanks, really, but I'll be fine."

_And, _he thought to himself, _I might be able to talk to Monica at some point, uninterrupted. _

###

Her mind was still reeling.

Monica couldn't quite believe what transpired during her meeting with Turrico. Not only was he pleased with her work, but he'd been looking for someone to take the role of mentor for potential new chefs coming into the program. In another month he was bringing in a new class and he wanted her to be part of the recruitment team. She'd be traveling, recruiting her peers and some of the best young chefs in the world, and then whipping them into shape for the rigors of the academy cooking school.

Turrico had actually given her a couple days off to think about it. She was supposed to meet him at 8 a.m. Saturday with her answer. It was a permanent position and would be based in Florence…and four months ago she would have had to pinch herself to be convinced that such an unbelievable opportunity was hers for the taking.

But if she took it, she wouldn't be going back to New York. She would hardly ever be home and she'd almost never see her family or her friends…or Chandler.

She was shaken out of her thoughts by Kevin, who was sitting across from her at a little restaurant away from Florence. The view was the stunning, cascading Tuscan countryside by the coast, bathed in unseasonably warm November light. Red roofs lined the scene and it was breathtaking.

She'd been fiddling with the cloth napkin in front of her and hadn't said anything since the waiter took their order. He'd reached for her hand and she'd jerked back a little.

She looked at his surprised expression, his golden hair shining and his deep green eyes questioning her. He was an attractive man, but…

"It's too soon, isn't it?" Kevin said, taking his hand away. "V said it would be too soon."

"Yeah," Monica said quietly, putting her napkin and her hands in her lap, looking out over the rooftops surrounding her. "I'm sorry, Kevin."

He shook his head.

"So…you've never dated this guy, right?" he asked a little hesitantly. "I mean, you were just friends…"

Monica nodded.

"And you're here, far away from him…"

Monica swallowed heavily and nodded again.

"…and you could be here now for…a long time," Kevin continued. "I mean 'outta sight, outta mind,' right? You've got new horizons to conquer now."

She looked away from him, breathing in sharply.

"It's only been a few weeks, it's gonna get easier..."

"You would think, huh?" Monica said with a disbelieving chuckle and a deep exhale. She shook her head. "You would think, yeah, you're right. One, I never dated him. Two, I've known him forever and was never super attracted to him before. Three, he's always been, well, always _was_ kinda immature. I mean he pretended to move to _Yemen_ to get out of a relationship."

Kevin's eyebrows raised at that.

"Yeah," Monica said, more to herself than to him, "Getting over these…feelings…that have…surfaced…it should be easy. It should be a piece of cake. We're thousands of miles apart. He's not here and I am and I should just be able to...move on. It should be the simplest thing in the world but, _nooo_…"

"Monica…"

"It's just gotten harder," she said, chattering away, somehow once again on the verge of tears. "And now…now here I am. I have this incredible opportunity here. I'm on a nice date with a great, hot guy in the middle of this beautiful place and all I can think about, _all I can think about_, is how I wish he was here or I wish I was home. I don't know what to do, I just don't."

She leaned back in her chair, taking a deep breath.

"If I stay here," she whispered. "I could…I might, I could somehow lose him as a…friend, and if he…he falls…completely out of my life…"

She physically shook at the thought.

After a moment she blinked back her tears and looked sympathetically at Kevin, who looked a little shell-shocked.

"I'm so sorry," she said, trying to smile a little. "I know my emotional breakdown isn't exactly what you had in mind for this evening…"

He sighed and shrugged.

"You've got a lot going on, and Vanessa did try to warn me," he smiled. "Listen, you need to tell Mr. Blue Eyes about all this…"

"Oh, stop," she smiled a little. "It's bad enough when Vanessa calls him that."

"What's his name? Chuck, Chip…?"

"Chandler," she said, fully smiling now. He shook his head a little.

"Your whole face lights up just saying his name," he said, with a grin. "You need to tell him how you feel."

"Yeah, right," Monica scoffed.

"You do…"

"Tell him what? 'Guess what, Chandler, I'm in love with you but, ya know, I'm gonna be in Italy for the foreseeable future so, whatever…'," she mocked, with a wave of her hand. "Besides, he'd totally freak out. I mean, we talked the other day, only for a few minutes but it felt…it felt like…'us.' I don't want to ruin…'us' with…all this, which, by the way, I can't believe is happening…right now."

"Absence does make the heart grow fonder," he quipped.

"I thought you were all 'outta sight, outta mind'," she said with a smirk.

"I was when I thought I had a chance," he said, grinning at her as he laced his fingers across his stomach, accepting that the 'date' part of the evening was over. "Listen, you clearly love this guy. You want him in your life and you're obviously not getting over him. You should just tell him and let the cards fall where they may."

"He'll freak out."

"So?"

"So?!" she asked, mildly irritated. "Did you not hear what I just said? I can't lose him…"

"And what if you don't?" he interrupted. "What if he feels the same way?"

Monica just stared at him.

"What if he's walking around back in New York feeling the exact same way about you."

"I don't…" Monica said, completely flustered, having really never let herself have that thought before. "I mean, I guess there's a chance…"

"If I had someone as great and beautiful as you are, who I'd known forever, who was as in love with me as you are with him," he nodded, "I'd take a second to think about it, at least."

She blushed.

"But, he's dating that woman…"

"Oh," Kevin said, not privy to that information before. "Is it serious?"

"I…I don't know," she said, beginning to bite her fingernail, her mind churning. "I mean, it didn't _sound_ that serious…"

"Then there's really nothing stopping you…"

"Yeah, right," she said, nervously still gnawing on her nails, "nothing - just an ocean, and the academy and a friendship that I can't lose and a broken heart, but, yeah, nothing…"

"You need to tell him…"

"But…"

"No 'buts,'" he said as the waiter brought their food to them. "Just…do it."

###

It was the night before Thanksgiving, and Joey and Rachel had already left for their respective holiday weekends. Phoebe had gone home and Ross had gone to pick up Ben for the night. Chandler had settled in with a cooler of beer and a pile of movies, including of course "Die Hard," when the phone rang.

"Hello?"

His face changed from one of mild curiosity to outright shock when he heard the voice at the other end of the line.

"You're kidding," Chandler said, dumbfounded. "I never expected to hear from you…"

###

"Hey," Vanessa said, poking her head into Monica's bedroom early the next morning.

"Hey," Monica said, rolling over and sitting up. "I guess you talked to Kevin."

"Yep," she said, walking over to Monica, her hands behind her back.

"Did you bring me some Twinkies?" Monica asked curiously. "I could really use a breakfast Twinkie."

"Nope." Vanessa sat down on the bed as Kevin followed her into the room.

"What's going on?" Monica asked as Vanessa handed her the item she'd been hiding.

"What's this?" Monica asked, reading it over. She looked sharply from Vanessa to Kevin. "A plane ticket to New York?!"

"It's Thanksgiving back home," Vanessa said quietly. Monica nodded. "Ya have two days off. You need to talk to Mr. Blue Eyes."

Monica looked at them both, tears in her eyes.

"I can't…" she whispered. "I can't believe you did this…"

Vanessa looked at Kevin, who was grinning. They'd gone in on the ticket together.

"You've done a lot for us, all of us," Vanessa said, tears in her own eyes. "I know you have to be back by Friday night, so it's a quick trip, but you…you said he hates Thanksgiving, right?"

Monica nodded, with a watery chuckle.

"Well, maybe now he won't," Vanessa said.

Monica shook her head.

"I don't …I don't even know what I'm gonna say to him," Monica said quietly, still stunned at their generosity.

"You have a whole plane ride to figure it out," Kevin said.

"How about 'I'm crazy about you, I can't stop thinking about you and I love you?'" Vanessa offered with a smile.

Monica beamed, then started, "but what if…"

"Enough with the 'buts,'" Kevin said, rolling his eyes from the doorway. "If he doesn't feel the same way then, then you've…_we've_ only invested a plane ticket."

Monica shot him a panicked look.

"And," he stopped her, putting up his hand, "your friendship will survive, I'm sure…"

"But…but what if he does?" Monica whispered, letting herself feel hopeful about that possibility for the very first time. She looked at Vanessa.

"If he does," Vanessa said, smiling softly at her. "Then your hearts will figure out the rest."

Monica launched herself at her friend.

"Thank you," she said, tears rolling down her face. "Thank you so, so much, both of you."

"You're welcome," Vanessa said, squeezing her back and giggling. "Are you kiddin', honey, this is better than a soap opera! I can't wait for y'all to figure it out…"

"Your flight's in two hours," Kevin said with a chuckle. "You better get going!"

"He'll be so surprised when ya show up at his door," Vanessa said excitedly.

Monica smiled from ear-to-ear and jumped out of bed.

This was going to be the best Thanksgiving ever.

###

Chandler stepped off the bus and walked out the door of the station, scanning the parking lot.

He spotted her blond hair as she frantically waved at him, standing next to what looked to be a brand new Lexus.

The wind had picked up and he pulled his coat closer to him as he threw his bag over his shoulder.

He walked over to her and gave her a smile.

"Oh," she hugged him tight. "I'm so glad you came!"

"Who can pass up a Greyhound to Syracuse on the coldest Thanksgiving Day on record?" he said, grinning at her and kissing her cheek.

"I'm glad you made it before the weather hit," she said, as he threw his bag in the back seat.

He nodded. "It's _way_ too early for this kinda winter."

"Sounds like it might be bad," she nodded, putting the car in reverse and pulling out of her parking space. "But you'll be all tucked-in upstate with me."

"Maybe I shoulda taken my chances with the nor'easter," he teased.

She playfully glared at him then took his hand.

"It's so good to see you, darling," she said, giving his hand a squeeze. "Happy Thanksgiving."

He grinned at her and squeezed her hand back.

"Happy Thanksgiving, Mom."

_**NOTE: I'd venture a guess that you didn't see that coming, huh? ) Thanks for your reviews! They are the best! This little beast has taken on a life of its own…be patient, it's gonna be kinda fun... :)**_


	15. Chapter 15

Monica practically ran up the steps to the landing and stood still between the two apartments, her heart pounding from exertion and excitement.

She looked at Apartment 19 and took a deep breath. This was it - and she couldn't wait to see the look on his face.

That thought made her smile as she raised her hand to knock, and just then the door to Apartment 20 swung open and her 3-and-a-half year old nephew ran out into the hall.

"Aunt Monica!" he said, his smile wide as he tackled her legs.

"Ben!" she said with a genuine smile as she scooped him up into her arms and hugged him against her.

"Mon!" smiled Ross, who was following close behind his son. He was completely floored to see his sister standing before him. He pulled her into a tight hug. "Oh my God! What are you doing here?!"

"It's a long story," she laughed as Ben smacked little kisses on her cheeks then kicked his feet to be put down. She set him down and glanced into Apartment 20. "Is everyone inside?"

"No," Ross said, with a little frown. "No, no one's here. We didn't think you were coming home - everyone's gone."

"_Everyone_?" Monica said as the smile and color swiftly left her face.

"Yeah," Ross said. "Rachel and Joey are with their families and Phoebe is with Frank and Alice and the babies."

"What about…what about Chandler?" she whispered, tears in the back of her eyes.

"He's upstate," Ross said, "with…"

"Marjorie, right?" Monica said, catch in her throat, the thought of him being on a romantic get-away just about breaking her heart instantly.

"Marjorie?" Ross said, a little confused. "No, he broke up with her weeks ago. No, Nora called yesterday and asked him to come spend Thanksgiving with her at her place in the Finger Lakes. He caught a bus to Syracuse this morning."

_He broke up with her weeks ago… he caught a bus to Syracuse…he caught a bus to Syracuse!_

"He caught a bus to Syracuse?!" Monica said, absolutely stunned. "He's, he's with his Mom? Today? Not here? Not in New York?"

"No," Ross said, looking at his sister curiously as Ben pulled his pants leg, ready to go see his grandparents. "We're headed to Mom and Dad's. Is it bad out yet?"

"Ahh, no, yes, well, I mean, it's starting to rain," she said, her mind completely distracted.

"The temperature's dropping," he nodded. "The parade wasn't bad, but we're supposed to get ice later today. Ben was taking a nap…."

Her mind wandered as Ross kept speaking. She couldn't believe Chandler wasn't home. He wasn't home! But, he wasn't with Marjorie, either. He'd broken up with her. When did he break up with her? Why? Was it right after London?

And…and he was with his Mom?

Somehow, that made her feel better. They didn't have the best relationship, but Monica knew deep down that Chandler loved Nora and Nora loved her son. At least he wasn't alone…

"Mon?" Ross asked, picking Ben up.

"What?"

"Did you hear me?"

"No, sorry, jet-lag," she said, trying to rally, rubbing her nephew's arm. "What did you say?"

"We should head to Mom and Dad's before it gets any worse."

She looked at Ross, then at Apartment 19.

"Oh, yeah, OK," she said, quietly.

"They'll be so happy to see you," Ross said, smiling. "Dad's been telling everyone at the Club how his daughter is this big, important chef in Italy and Mom's…pretty much told everyone else."

"Really?" Monica said, surprised. She couldn't help but smile at that.

"Really," he said with a grin. "Let's go."

"Vamanos!" Ben said, tugging on his aunt's arm.

Ross chuckled as he carried Ben to the landing and started down the stairs. Monica cast one more glance at Apartment 19, placed her palm for a moment against the door, then followed them.

###

"And then…he said 'Rachel,'" Chandler said dramatically, pausing for effect, smiling at his mom across the table from him.

"Oh, that poor boy," Nora said, half-laughing, half trying not to choke on her fish. "He just can't catch a break in the romance department, can he?"

Chandler shook his head, laughing along with her.

Nora Tyler Bing wasn't about to cook Thanksgiving dinner, but she'd been giving her full attention to her son at a fancy restaurant along the lake - where they were _not_ having turkey, but were having a relaxing time as Chandler caught her up on the events of the past few months.

"I bet you all about died," Nora said, still chuckling.

"Oh, there was this big search for the runaway bride," Chandler said. "I about killed Ross myself. Monica was flying back to Italy and I…"

And for at least the fourth time that night he stopped speaking almost as soon as Monica's name crossed his lips. Nora had noticed it and was very curious.

"Monica was flying back to Italy…." she repeated slowly, waiting for him to continue.

"Yeah, she…" he started and even in the dim light Nora noticed the blush on her son's cheeks. "I just…I wanted to…um…talk…to, ah, see her before she left…to ss-say goodbye…"

He picked up his water glass and took a long drink as Nora studied him closely.

"Monica's been gone how long now?" she asked gently.

Chandler put down the glass and rotated it on the table between his fingers, his demeanor reflective. He cleared his throat.

"Almost four months," he said quietly. "I can't believe it…"

Nora was quiet for a moment.

"We're you two…" she hesitated, knowing Chandler hated when she asked about any semblance of a love life, but it was clear that he was missing Ross' sister, "…together before she left?"

"No," he whispered with a soft look that Nora knew all too well, she'd written about it often enough. Then he quickly sat up in his chair and smoothed his tie, the walls coming back up again.

"What? No!" he insisted. "We're close, we're friends. I just…I miss her, that's all."

Nora nodded. "I see."

"I mean," Chandler said, cutting into his steak, "together? No, we're not. I mean, how could we be?"  
>Nora cocked her head to one side, looking at him.<p>

"That's not," he said, floundering. "Not that…I want to be, I mean, that we should be…not…that's not…not what I meant…"

He sighed and took a bite of his steak, not meeting her eyes.

Nora took a sip of her wine.

"Florence is a gorgeous place," she said carefully. "Maybe you should visit."

Chandler heavily put his fists down on the table on either side of his plate - fork in one hand, knife in the other - and shot her an exasperated look.

"I'm just sayin'," she said with a smirk and wave of her hand.

He glared at her as he loaded another bite of steak onto his fork.

###

"The weather is bad, kids, you should stay here tonight," Judy Geller said, looking out the window at the rain that had changed over to ice a couple hours ago.

Monica gazed out the window with her mother. Everything looked like dark glass. It was oddly beautiful, and definitely not something to drive around on.

Ross had been right. Her parents had been thrilled by her surprise visit. They'd actually let her talk uninterrupted for quite a while about everything happening in Italy. Her mother had told her she was proud of her and her dad clearly was. Ben pretending to be a turkey, making all of them laugh, and to be honest, it was probably the best Thanksgiving she'd ever had with her parents.

It almost made the quick, long trip home worth it.

Almost - but it wasn't why her friends in Florence had bought the ticket.

She wished she had a clue where he was, how to get ahold of him. Ross said he vaguely remembered visiting Chandler at his mom's place in college, but had no idea where it was. After dinner she'd snuck up to Ross' old bedroom and tried to dial information, but there was no "Nora Bing" listed anywhere in New York, even though Monica knew she owned at least two homes in the state. But she was a famous author and clearly had her number unlisted.

Monica sighed.

"Are you tired, honey?" Jack asked, walking up behind her at the window.

"Yeah," she said, giving him a hug. "I think I'm gonna go lay down.

"I'm…sorry your room is a gym," he winced. Monica shrugged.

"You can use Ross' old room, until Ben needs to go down for the night," Judy offered.

Monica smiled a little.

"OK," she nodded. "I'll be back down in a while."

She kissed the top of Ben's head and went upstairs. She glanced into her old room and rolled her eyes, then stepped into Ross's room, marveling at how it hadn't changed since he had been in college.

It hadn't changed. Not one bit.

Not one…little…bit.

Monica quickly walked over to Ross's old wooden desk in the corner and pulled open the top drawer.

And sitting at the top, undisturbed, was his old college address book.

With trembling hands she opened it to "B" and right there, in faded pencil was written "Chandler's Mom, Finger Lakes" - with a phone number.

"Oh, _please_ be the right number, be the right number, be the right number…" she prayed, whispering fiercely as her shaking fingers grabbed for the phone.

###

It was after 11 when Nora and Chandler returned from dinner.

It had been snowing quite a bit and took a little longer for them to make the short drive from the restaurant to her house.

"Turn on the TV, honey," Nora said, gesturing toward the living room off the kitchen as they walked in from the garage. "I want to check the weather."

"Ah, it's snowing," he quipped. She playfully smacked the back of his head then went into the kitchen to get some coffee for them and check her messages as he turned on the TV.

A couple moments later, she walked back into the living room.

"Chandler…" she said, a little stunned. "There's a message for you."

"For me?" he said, confusion on his face. "From who?"

"Monica."

"Monica?!" he said as he jumped up from the couch and he rushed past her into the kitchen.

She looked after him then over at the weather on the news.

Chandler could barely breathe, a million questions were filtering though his mind. How did she know he was here? He'd tried to call her earlier in the day, twice, and there was no answer. He didn't leave a number, assuming he'd just call her again tomorrow. She must have called home and talked to Ross, he thought, it was the only explanation.

He held his breath as he pushed the button on the answering machine.

_Hi, um, this is Monica. I'm calling for…for Chandler, Mrs. Bing. If this is still your number, I…um…there wasn't a name, just a number on the machine. I just…um, Chandler if you're there I, ah, I'm in New York. I, I wanted I…(he could hear her take a deep breath). I'm at my parents' house but I'm leaving to fly…back in the morning. I just wanted (another deep breath and a nervous laugh)…I hope you had your macaroni and cheese with cut-up hotdogs (more nervous laughter). Chandler, I…happy, Happy Thanksg -BEEP…_

He felt like his heart had fallen through the floor and he was sure he was going to cry.

"She's home?" he whispered, both hands flat on the granite of the kitchen counter. Nora looked at him pensively from edge of the kitchen.

"She's home?!" he shouted at the answering machine. "Oh my God! Oh my God! She's in New York?! What the hell…oh my God!"

He looked at his mother, incredulous, his eyes wild.

"What in the hell is she doing in New York?!"

Nora tried to hide her knowing smile as her son, who it was now very clear was in love with Monica, went to pieces in her kitchen.

"Well, I don't know, Chandler why don't you call her back?" she said, somewhat bemused.

"Call her back?" he repeated, as if this was the first time anyone had ever thought of that idea. "Of course, yeah…"

He fumbled for the phone, almost dropping it but catching it in mid-air. He knew the Geller's number and dialed it quickly.

Then he hung up and dialed again. And again.

"What's wrong?" Nora asked.

"I keep getting a rapid busy signal," he said, trying again. "I _know_ that's the right number."

"Where do her parents live?"

"Long Island."

"Oh no," Nora said, glancing at the TV.

"'Oh no,' what?!" Chandler demanded, feeling like he was going to lose his mind.

"There are power lines and phone lines down all over Long Island and up and down the beach towns near New York because of the ice," she said sadly. "They just reported it on the news."

"What? No!" Chandler said, peaking over Nora's shoulder. Then he turned and slammed the phone back in its cradle.

"Son of a bitch!" he snarled, head falling into his hands.

"Oh, honey, I'm so sorry," Nora said, walking over and rubbing his back. "I'm sorry you can't…talk to her and…tell her how you feel."

Chandler's head shot up at that.

"What do you mean 'how I feel'?" he asked, turning swiftly to face her.

"That you love her," Nora said, softly.

He straightened up.

"I do not."

"Oh, Chandler," Nora said, getting slightly agitated with him. "Of course you do."

He walked away from her and grabbed his coffee mug off the island.

"No, I don't," he said, taking a quick sip.

"Chandler!"

"No, look, I just…I just, I miss her, OK? Why can't people get that?! I. Miss. Her," he said, defensively. "Is that a crime?"

"No…"

"OK, then," he said, in a voice clearly meant to convey that the discussion was over. "I wish I could have…talked to her, that's all."

Nora sighed.

"Can I just ask you one thing?"

His shoulders slumped.

"No."

"Do you miss her," she continued, stepping over to him tentatively, "or do you feel like you're missing a part of _you_ because she's gone?"

He just stared at her a moment, then quickly ran a hand through his hair and grinned.

"Now you sound like a line out of 'Euphoria at Midnight,'" he scoffed, putting his coffee cup down.

She shook her head.

"I have my answer then," she sighed.

"What?"

"Deflecting with sarcasm?" she said, grabbing her coffee mug off the island. "You've been doing _that_ since you were nine."

"I wonder why," he glared at her.

She glared right back.

"There's a reason I've sold millions of books, Chandler," she said. "I know what people feel when they're in love."

"I'm not in love with Monica."

"Oh, honey, yeah ya are," she said, looking at him with disbelief. "All this…emotion over a missed phone call? There really is the most simple explanation in the world for it - you love her."

"Look, I'm done with this topic, OK?" he said, completely ready to be out of her kitchen and wishing for all the world that he'd never come here in the first place. "I'm going to bed."

She looked at him a moment and then shrugged.

"Suit yourself," she said.

He walked over and kissed her cheek.

"Thank you," he said, relieved.

"Thank you for spending this day with me," she said. "It meant…a lot."

He smiled sadly and then walked away.

Nora heard him go up the stairs behind the kitchen and shut the guest room door. She put their cups in the dishwasher and wiped off the island, then she walked around the first floor shutting off the TV and the lights as she went along.

She stepped over to the kitchen to go upstairs when she saw a figure in the dark.

She gasped and turned on a light.

"Chandler?" she said, hand against her chest. "You scared me to death!"

He looked at her and mumbled "sorry," and for a moment she saw the lost little boy of 20 years ago looking back at her and her heart went out to him.

His hands deep in his pockets, he cleared his throat.

"Can I borrow your car?" he asked, then added off her questioning look. "I need to get back to New York."

He took a deep breath.

"I need to talk to Monica."

_**NOTE: I do believe that may be the longest chapter I've ever written for a fic. Anyway, are you on the edge of your seats yet? I promise, we're really close…thank you, thank you for being so engaged in this story! :) And, yes, Monica's hand on the apartment door was my own little nod to the kiss she put on his back in Slow Me Down…**_


	16. Chapter 16

"Isn't this, like, straight out of one of your books?" he said, walking toward Nora's Lexus. "'Hero battles elements to save the day!'"

"Yes, but the hero isn't my son!"

"That's just," he said, shaking his head and sitting heavily in the driver's seat, "that's stellar, Mom."

"Please be careful."

"Nah, I thought I'd be terribly reckless."

"Chandler…"

"Deflecting with sarcasm since 1978," he smirked, turning on the ignition and rolling the window down. He closed the door. "Don't worry. I'll make it there in one piece. It's not even snowing anymore and I'm sure New York's finest road crews have the highways clear by now."

She glanced at her new car.

"And your baby will make it, too," he grinned.

"Chandler, listen to me," she said, gripping the closed driver's side door. "I meant what I said, it really is that simple."

"No, it's not," he replied. "I don't even know what 'it' is, but I…I have one tiny, little smidgeon of a window to find out."

She nodded as he put the car in reverse.

"Bye, Mom," he said, "and thanks."

"Love you," she said as he pulled away.

"Love you," he waved, then turned the car onto the dark, wintery road ahead.

###

Chandler took the stairs two at a time as he went up to his apartment.

A drive that took five hours in good weather took more than seven in the cold and snow. The roads were bad, but not impassible. A couple times he thought he would fall asleep, but the thought of seeing Monica kept him awake.

He'd gone out to Long Island and stopped at the Gellers, knocking on the door but there was no answer. He floored the Lexus - making his way as quickly as possible back into the City.

He turned toward Apartment 20 just as Ross walked out the door.

"Hey! You're back," Ross said, closing the door behind him. "I thought you weren't coming back until tonight?"

"Is Monica here?" he asked quickly.

"No," Ross said, a surprised look on his face. "How did you know that Monica was here?"

"She…she called me," he said, dropping his bag to his feet and gesturing with his hands. "She's not here?!"

"No," Ross said, as he watched Chandler put his hands over his face.

"I can't…what time was her flight?" he asked, miserably.

"At 8:45," Ross said, putting his hand on Chandler's shoulder. "My parents dropped her off at JFK this morning."

Chandler looked at his watch. It was 8:37.

"I'm sorry you missed her, man."

"Dammit!" he said, jerking and turning away from Ross. "I cannot believe…son-of-a-bitch!"

Ross looked at him, shocked for a moment by his reaction.

"I gotta go to the Museum," he said, finally, "there's a display issue and it's a busy day with people off work…"

Chandler was still turned away from him, not really listening, rubbing his forehead and silently cursing the universe.

"You gonna be OK, man?"

He turned then and Ross was taken aback by the devastated look on his face.

"Yeah, yeah, sure I'm fine," Chandler said quickly, waving Ross away.

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah - just go!"

"OK," Ross said, raising his hands and backing away. He shot one more curious glance at Chandler then went down the stairs.

Chandler opened the door to his apartment and walked inside, slamming it behind him. He saw that Joey wasn't home.

He threw his bag down outside his bedroom and looked around the dark, quiet living room.

Suddenly the emptiness was so heavy he felt like the walls were pushing in on him and he couldn't breathe.

So he turned right around, grabbed his keys off the counter and walked back out the door.

###

"Let's go shopping!" Rachel said excitedly as she met Phoebe at Apartment 20 later that morning.

"Oh, it's so cold and icy out," Phoebe said, squishing up her nose.

"But that means they'll be less people and more bargains on the good stuff," Rachel whined.

"Hey," Joey said, walking in and heading straight for the refrigerator.

"Hey! Did you have a good Thanksgiving at your Mom's?" Rachel asked.

"Oh, yeah," Joey said, pulling Thanksgiving leftovers Ross had brought back from his parents' out of the fridge. "Lots of great food."

"Which you clearly didn't get enough of," Rachel quipped as leftovers piled up on the kitchen table.

"No, I got plenty," Joey said innocently as Rachel rolled her eyes.

"What's this?" Phoebe asked, grabbing a pie covered in tin foil.

It had a note on the top.

_Monica's Pecan Pie - I'm sorry I missed you. Happy Thanksgiving. Love, Monica._

"Oh my God, how…was she, was she home, for one night?!" Rachel asked in shock.

"No," Phoebe said, just as surprised. "No way, that has to be a different pie."

"Nope," Joey said, digging in. "It's definitely Monica's pie."

Phoebe and Rachel stared at him for a moment before he jumped out of his chair and they all said, "oh my God!" at the same time.

"Do you think she came to see Chandler?" Joey asked excitedly. Rachel looked at him sharply.

"Why? Why would she come to see Chandler on Thanksgiving? What do you know about Monica and Chandler?!"

"No…no more than _you_ know about Monica and Chandler!" he said, realizing his mistake too late and backing away.

"Joey…" Phoebe started, "What do you know about Monica and Chandler?!"

"Nothing!" he said, eyes wide. "I know nothing about…what happened in London!"

"Wha...what happened in London?!" Rachel asked, breathless.

He looked from one woman to another, both looking ready to beat it out of him, so he caved.

"They kissed, OK!" he blurted out, somewhat relieved to get the secret out of his system. "That morning? After they walked around the city, when I…found him in Monica's hotel room? They were making out that morning!"

"Nooo!" Rachel said, looking slowly from Joey to Phoebe.

"And the airport," Joey said, spilling all he knew. "Chandler said they…kissed goodbye at the airport. I mean, ki-i-ssed."

He grinned.

"Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God," Rachel said, sitting on a chair and putting her hands on her head. "It all makes sense now. Moving the apartments back and his mood swings…"

"His breakup with Marjorie, Monica's awful homesickness," Phoebe chimed in, "and she missed him. She missed him! He's coming back from his mom's tonight, right?

Joey nodded sadly.

"Oh….this is just awful…awful," Rachel said, her voice strained.

"I hope you're not talking about my pie," Monica smiled, as she walked through the door.

They looked like they'd seen a ghost, then jumped up to greet her.

"Mon!" "Why are you here?" "Why didn't you tell us you were coming home?"

"Whoa…whoa," she said, still smiling, giving them each a hug. "One question at a time."

"What are you doing here?" Rachel said in awe, eyes bright with curiosity.

"Well, um, my flight was delayed 15 minutes before it was supposed to takeoff," she said. "Something about de-icing and delays at other airports. My bag was checked and everything. It's rescheduled for 1:30. I...I thought I'd wait around at the airport, then I thought maybe I'd…come back here and see who was home…"

Phoebe and Rachel exchanged a glance - _to see if Chandler was home, _they both silently acknowledged.

"Why, why are you not in Italy?" Phoebe asked.

"I, ah, well, it's a long story. See, I have this job offer…there…" she started as Joey began digging into the pie again. He put up his hands.

"Wait a minute," he said, standing. "If this is gonna be a long story then they'll be lots of eating. I need my Thanksgiving pants."

Monica rolled her eyes and grinned. She was glad to see some things hadn't changed.

"I'll save the important details," she said, gesturing to his apartment. "Go change. I have to be back at the airport in an hour."

"Gotcha," he grinned and walked over to his apartment. He was making his way to his bedroom when he stopped, looking down.

Chandler's bag. That was Chandler's bag. It could only mean one thing…

"Chandler?" he called out quietly, poking his head in his room.

"Chandler?!" running to look in the bathroom.

"Oh no, no, no…."

###

"Chandler!"

"Joey?" he said, as he looked down at his office phone in confusion. "Why are you calling me here?"

"I've been calling everywhere, man," he said, pacing in their apartment. "Get your ass back to the coffee house, now!"

"Why?"

"Monica's there!"

"What?!"

"Her flight got delayed but she has to leave again in like a half-hour, you gotta get here - now!"

"Oh God," he stood up, still talking on the phone and managing to drag it across his desk, knocking everything to the floor. "I walked here. I can't get a cab, it's Black Friday!"

"Then run," Joey ordered. "Cut through the park and run like you've never run before!"

He'd driven like a bat out of hell all night, what was a little running at this point?

"OK…OK," he said, quickly, breathlessly. "Don't let her leave, Joey. Don't let her leave!"

"On it," Joey said, with a serious head nod. "Just go!"

But Chandler had already dropped the phone to the floor, grabbed his coat and run out the door.

###

Monica looked at her watch, her heart sinking with every tick of the second hand.

She'd called what she thought was his Mom's house from the airport, but didn't get an answer and didn't leave another message.

She was hoping, by some miracle, he'd be home early. But that hope was fading fast as she now sat with Phoebe and Rachel at the coffee house.

Both of them kept looking at her curiously and she wondered if she'd grown horns or something while she was in Italy.

"OK, what is it?" she asked.

Rachel sat up to speak when Joey bounded through the door and over to the orange couch.

"He's home," he said, completely out of breath, wearing a pair of Phoebe's maternity pants - his Thanksgiving pants.

"What?!" Rachel said, as Monica jumped up off the couch.

"He's in New York…at his office…running here now…" he gasped.

Monica's heart nearly stopped and her eyes filled with tears.

"He's cutting…through the park," Joey said, looking at Monica.

"You have to meet him…" Phoebe said in almost a high-pitched squeal, pulling Monica's arm.

"Why?" Monica said, confused, even as her heart started pounding harder. "Why are you so…keen on me seeing Chandler?!"

"Because we _know_," Rachel said, just as excitedly as Phoebe, wrapping her arms around Monica. "We know!"

"Know what?" Monica whispered, trying to keep the smile off her face and failing to keep a tear from falling to her cheek.

"We know…" Rachel said, then caught herself, tears in her eyes, too. "We know how much you…miss him…"

She smiled gently as Monica softly let out a little sob, hand over her mouth. She looked at Joey and Phoebe - both were beaming.

"Now, go, go!" Phoebe said with a catch in her voice as she grabbed Monica's arm again and threw her winter coat at her, pushing her out the door.

###

There was hardly anyone in the park and Chandler vaguely thought if he passed out from running he may not be found before the winter thaw.

He stopped for just a moment and put one hand on a bench, one on his side, wincing a little at the cramp tightening there. His lungs were burning.

Breathing hard he looked up and through his heavy breath he caught sight of her walking towards him, still a little ways off. He froze and stared, he shuddered, and waited.

Monica eyes darted all around and past the clearing she saw him standing there next to a bench, all alone - bright, glistening ice framing him. Her breath caught and she smiled, still walking towards him.

And he smiled right back at her.

**_NOTE: No, no car crashes or comas, as someone surmised ... LOL! You just have to wait for the next chapter ;) Thanks for your reviews - they are incredible!_**


	17. Chapter 17

Monica wiped her eyes as she closed the remaining gap between them. His smile widened as he pulled her to him, still breathing hard.

She wrapped her arms around him tight, feeling him breathe quickly in and out.

"You really ran," she giggled a little, her heart beating wildly.

"I really did," he said, breathlessly, pressing her to him. "What are you doing in New York?!"

She pulled back to look up at him.

"Turrico gave me a couple days off…"

"Why?"

"He…" she swallowed heavily. "He offered me a…a job."

"Oh," Chandler said, blood running from his face as he released her, knees buckling beneath him. He sat down on the bench.

"It's a…mentorship," she said shakily, sitting next to him. "I would be helping…recruit people, ah, chefs, from all over the world and preparing them for…for the academy…class."

"I see…"

She glanced over at him. He was staring straight ahead, hands folded in his lap.

"Based in Florence…right?" he said, still not looking at her.

"Yes," she whispered. Then she held her breath.

After a couple moments, he swallowed hard and turned to look into her eyes.

"That's great, Mon," he said quietly, smiling a little at her. "It…you…sounds like a…a great opportunity for you."

"You think so?" she said weakly, searching his face. She swore she could actually feel her heart breaking.

He nodded, but she couldn't read his expression.

"I…I guess, yeah, it is," she whispered as she dropped her head and wrapped her arms around her cold coat.

He turned his body away a little and turned his head to look the other direction, desperately blinking back the tears that had sprung to his eyes.

His mind was in a fog, his heart was hammering in his ears, and he could not believe he was going to have to...let her go.

She glanced over at him again, squeezed her eyes closed, then looked down.

"I…I probably need to go," she said softly, her eyes focused on her lap.

He cleared his throat, looking back at the top of her head.

"Yeah…yeah," he said, looking away as she raised her face to his. "It was, uh, I'm glad I at least got to see you before…'yay' for ice storms…"

She cracked a very small smile at that. His eyes met hers for the briefest of moments.

Before she completely broke down she reached out and hugged him, breathing him in.

"Goodbye, Chandler," she said with a voice that sounded more confident than she felt. Her lip was quivering.

"Bye," he whispered into her hair, still blinking back the tears that threatened to bring him to his knees and beg her to chuck it all and stay.

She turned her head and stood, turning around in one motion.

She wouldn't look at him. She knew she couldn't let herself look into his eyes again.

She'd never stop seeing them in her mind if she did.

Monica smoothed down her coat, and let out the deep breath she didn't know she was still holding.

The cold mist from her exhale floated around her and slowly she started to walk away from the bench.

From her old life.

From unrequited love.

From him.

"I'm so lost," she heard him say suddenly - and she stopped in her tracks.

He'd sat there and watched her get up and walk away.

Every fiber of his being screaming at him to not let her go.

Because if she left she was gone for good.

And he simply couldn't take watching her leave one more time.

Chandler stood and turned in her direction, crunching the frozen grass under his shoes. The only other sound was the moaning of the trees as the branches cracked under the weight of the ice that clung to them.

She was about 20 paces from him, but at least she'd stopped.

"The last…few months," he started, standing still, letting his heart do the talking. "I've been so…lost without you here."

He didn't move as he saw her head drop and her hands fly to her face, her back still to him.

"I've…I have missed you more than I have ever missed another human being in my whole life," he said quietly. "You…you are my 'true north,' my…my beacon, my lighthouse in the dark…"

His voice cracked and he could swear he saw her shoulders begin to shake under her coat.

But she never moved.

"I don't know how I survived before you," he continued, words just falling out of his mouth. "And I…I don't know how to survive without you now. I…I get up every day and every day - every _goddamn_ day - I have to…remember you're not here. You're not across the hall and it…it hits me like a, like a freight train _every_ _single_ _day_. You're not here, you're there and…and you, you're living out your dream…and I…I feel like a complete asshole trying to make you feel guilty about that because you shouldn't, you should be proud…I'm proud of you, I am, I really, really mean that, but I…dammit…I just…I miss you. I miss you so much it hurts…it _actually_ hurts."

He finished in a whisper, looking at the ground now, tears stinging the back of his eyes.

He wasn't sure what else to say. He now felt the full force of the weather, and so he dove his hands deep into the pockets of his coat, shielding his body from the cold.

Shielding his heart from the inevitable heartbreak that he was almost sure would follow.

After a moment Monica threw her head back, looking at the glistening branches above through her tears, and took a deep breath before finding the strength to turn to him.

When she finally looked at him she saw his eyes were bright, his cheeks still flushed, his breath heavy in the frigid air around him.

And it took every ounce of strength she had not to run heart-first into his arms.

Instead she walked slowly over to him, her hands in her pockets, tears clinging to her lashes like the ice on the trees.

"Do you…do you remember that time I called you early on a Saturday morning about a month after I left?" she asked quietly, looking up into his eyes.

He furrowed his brow a moment before nodding. "Yeah…"

"I was…homesick," she said quietly, now just a step left between them. "And...and you…talked me down and made me laugh and tried to cheer me up, remember?"

He nodded again.

"I…I felt so happy when we hung up - for about two minutes," she whispered, her voice overcome with emotion. "I forgot where I was. I stood there in the middle of one of the most beautiful places on Earth and I closed my eyes. I…I let myself pretend you were with me…you came to me and…and held me and made sure I was feeling better."

He gave her a little smile, taking a warm hand out of his pocket to wipe a tear falling down her cheek.

"I…I just wanted," she continued, tears falling freely now, stumbling over her words. "I wanted…you just to…just because…oh…it wasn't enough to hear you laugh…"

She took her hands out of her pockets and cupped his face.

"I wanted to see your smile," she whispered, stroking her thumbs along his cheekbones. "I wanted to see your eyes dance like they do. I needed to have you near me…I needed you to hold me…"

She swallowed heavily and nodded.

"It hurts…it actually hurts."

He grimaced at the pain on her face as he stood there looking at the tears in her eyes. Then breathing in deeply through his nose, he briefly shook his head.

"I don't want to hurt anymore," he whispered, his breath catching in his throat as his watery eyes searched her face.

His gaze landed on her lips.

She shook her head.

"Me, either," she breathed hoarsely against his mouth.

His body was warm as he reached around her waist and pulled him to her - their cold lips melting into each other. She tightened her arms around his neck and deepened their kiss, her tongue meeting his. She pressed her body as close to his as she possibly could.

Chandler didn't want to let his lips leave hers but when their kiss eventually slowed down, he kissed her forehead, her hair, and kept her close.

"Getting on the plane in London was the hardest thing I have ever done," she whispered, clutching him to her.

"Humph," he grunted, gripping her tightly to him, trying to regain composure and failing. "Letting you…go, then coming home…without you…nearly killed me…"

She stepped back and looked into his face.

"That was the single most romantic night of my life," she whispered. "I never wanted it to end…I never wanted to go to sleep…but…then…"

"Kissing you," he breathed, running the back of his fingers slowly down her cheek, and she nodded, completely lost in his eyes. "Waking up with you wrapped up with me was like…it was like…coming home…"

"…coming home," she whispered at the same moment, pressing his palm to her cheek. She closed her eyes.

"Oh God, I love you…" she said softly, slowly, before she even realized she was going to say it. Her pensive eyes peeked up at him.

He swallowed hard, his heart pounding in his ears.

Love.

That really _was_ what this was. That's what they had been building toward all these years.

It was so strong because time made it grow, but distance made it real.

And their radar for one another had brought it home.

Their 'true north.'

Their love.

It was as simple as that.

Tears filled his eyes and a smile broke across his face.

"That's good," he whispered, leaning his forehead to hers. "Because I love you, too, Monica. I love you, too…"

Her face brightened into the biggest smile he'd ever seen. He placed his palms firmly on her cheeks.

"You're freezing…" he noted, chuckling.

"I don't care," she shook her head to emphasize her point, her voice pitching excitedly. "I don't care! I love you!"

He laughed, feeling completely, utterly happy, as he suddenly lifted her in his arms and spun her around as she clung to him and shrieked then giggled - each repeating "I love yous" that echoed through the deserted, frozen park.

When he set her down he took her hands and kissed them.

She couldn't stop smiling. She looked into his crystal blue eyes - they were dancing.

"I miss you and I love you so much, Mon, and I hate that you aren't here," he said quickly, smoothing down her hair with one hand, looking in her eyes that were quickly filling with tears again, "and I know now that I've been dying to tell you that since London."

"Oh…" she said, shaking her head, her hands gripping his arms, she started to cry harder. "Oh, Chandler…I love you. I just want to be here with you. I…I…"

And it was then that he remembered she had a plane to catch.

"I just want to be with _you_…" she sobbed into his coat.

He hugged her close then gently pushed her away.

"But you have to go," he said, smiling softly at her.

"I don't…want to…go!" she said brokenly, searching his face. She couldn't leave him. Not again.

Her emotions collided as panic suddenly gripped her.

Despite all of this he wanted her…to go?

"Chandler…" she gasped, every inch of her pleading with him. "I've tried so, so hard to get over you. I can't…I can't do it, please…oh please, don't make me…"

"No…" he said, confused at first, but then realizing what she must be thinking. "Oh God, Monica, no, no, no! Stop…I'm not asking…no!"

She let out a shuddery breath as she gripped his arms, searching his eyes.

"Oh, baby, no," he said, pulling her trembling body to his, the endearment slipping out like he'd called her "baby" forever. "What I meant was you have to go _now_."

Her grip tightened.

"But," he whispered bending down to look at her, his tears threatening again. "I'll be right behind you."

She stepped back and stared at him.

"What?!" she said a moment later, blinking rapidly, wiping her eyes.

_What_ did he just say?

He smiled at her through his misty eyes.

"I'll be right behind you. I'll leave as fast as I can," he said, breathlessly, earnestly.

"I'm going to Italy."

_**NOTE: So here is the honest-to-God truth about this story. This is where it began. I wrote the bulk of this scene months ago, thinking about creating a story where Monica knew she loved Chandler and had to try to get over him anyway and he was lost without her. The idea was born out of a review for TOW The Honeymoon. And I didn't want them to already be in a relationship and then break them up. So, I decided on a worldwide adventure instead…**_

_**And, I couldn't get the words "true north" out of my head. Don't know why. So I tried to find a reference to it in some Shakespeare poem or something so I could include it in the London chapter. But I couldn't. Then I just googled it and took a chance and BOOM - not only was it a popular passage in a Nicholas Sparks book, but it was a Sparks book that came out in what would have been the spring of Season 4! I've never read a Sparks book, I don't think. Anyway, talk about a surprise push to finish the story! Seriously did a little Chandler dance when I stumbled across that…sorry, that might only interest me, but I wanted to share. :) **_

_**THANK YOU for your reviews! Oh, and of course it's not over yet - we got lots of Mondler love to come :) **_


	18. Chapter 18

"Chandler!" Monica said, breathing heavily and trying hard not to smile too much. "I can't…I can't ask you to do that."

"You didn't ask, I offered," he said, putting his hands on her shoulders. "Or, um, I guess I _told_ you. I, um, if you…maybe you don't want me to. I mean…I can…it's obviously up to you…"

She threw her arms around his neck and silenced him with a kiss, both of them smiling against each other's lips.

"Oh my God," she whispered, looking at him in complete shock, her hands in his hair. "You…you would do that just to…be with me?"

He nodded and wrapped his arms tighter around her waist.

"I'll go to Italy. Hell, I'd even go back to Yemen," he said, smiling at her. "I'd go hang out with Santa Claus at the North Pole if it means I get to be with you."

She just looked at him, laughing and ready to sob at the same time.

"I will do anything, _go anywhere _to be with you," he said softly, as she burst into tears.

She shook her head, trying to calm down enough to talk.

He moved his hands to cup her face.

He had no idea he was going to Italy - he was going to go where she was just to be with her - until he'd said the words.

But he was going.

"I mean it, Mon," he whispered, pecking her lips, wiping her tears with his thumbs. She nodded and then looked up at him.

"You have no idea," she whispered hoarsely, searching his eyes, "how many times I've wished you were there with me. How many…things I wanted to show you…"

She took a deep, shuddery breath.

"How many mornings I wanted to wake up in your arms again…"

He stared at her, stroking her hair, their cold breath mingling between them.

The emotions he saw flashing in her beautiful blue eyes floored him.

"Monica…I had…how long have you…felt this way?" he asked softly.

"I don't know…" she shook her head. "I don't know. I just know I miss you so much. And I…I just, I realized you were always, _always_ the one I….turned to. The only person who…could…make everything OK when it wasn't. Always, Chandler…"

He gave her his shy, lopsided grin.

She ran her fingers through his hair, her eyes taking in all the features of his face.

"You are my 'true north'," she choked out softly. "My lighthouse in the dark...the one my heart calls for like no one else..."

He captured her lips with his and kissed her deeply, then her forehead, her temple…

"I…I can't believe this is happening," he whispered into her hair, tears at the corner of his eyes. "I can't…believe you're right here and…and telling me you love me."

"I do," she said pulling back to stroke his cheek, seeing the tears in his eyes. "Oh, I do…"

Chandler let out a watery chuckle and raised her hands again to kiss her fingers.

"And I can't believe I'm gonna say this," he said, clearing his throat, "but I gotta get you to the airport."

"No…." she groaned.

He looked at his watch - it was late already.

"Come on," he said, taking her hand and leading them out of the park. "You can't pass on Turrico's offer - I'm not about to let you let go of your dream."

"My dream is holding my hand," she said, with a smile as dazzling as the ice all around them.

His breath caught and he stopped for a moment.

"It'll only be for a little while," he said softly, kissing her forehead. "I promise.

The look on his face and the love in his eyes made her heart gallop.

"I'm so high right now I could fly back to Florence without the airplane."

He laughed and they started to walk again.

"That'd be a cold flight, baby," he said.

She leaned into his arm as they walked. "Baby" - oh, God, she could get used to that!

"We've got a lot to figure out," she sighed.

"And some confused friends to talk to," he nodded in agreement.

She grinned.

"Some of them won't be that confused," she said quietly.

He stopped walking.

"Yeah?"

She smiled.

"I don't know what they _think_ they know," she said. "But they knew…something."

He sighed.

"Joey definitely knows," he said, a little sheepishly. "I told him…I told him what happened in London.

"Really?" She caressed his cheek and smiled gently at him.

"Yeah," he said, clearing his throat again. "And I think Rachel suspected…something."

She grinned at him and nodded.

"Ya know, Phoebe practically pushed me out the door at Central Perk…"

"Joey called me at work…"

They both grinned as they realized the role their friends played in bringing them together that afternoon.

"Thank God for Joey's inability to keep a secret under pressure," he smiled.

She nodded, then her face fell again ever so briefly.

"Just let me take care of stuff here, OK?" he said reassuringly as he kissed the top of her head. "You just go…set the culinary world on fire."

"Chandler," she said, squeezing his hand and looking directly into his eyes, her rational side coming to the surface. "Seriously, do you know what you're doing? Have you thought it through? I mean I want you with me, believe me. I do. But you are uprooting your whole life…your job, our friends…this is a huge, life-altering change. It's a big deal - are you completely sure? You'll be moving to another country and…and you won't have a job and…"

"Monica…" he interrupted. "Monica?"

She stopped and inhaled sharply, finally catching her breath.

"No," he admitted. "I haven't thought every single thing through. But, I…I know I have enough money saved I can afford to quit my job - which will be no great sacrifice, _believe_ me. And, yes, I know it will be…difficult to leave, but…think of all the money I'll save on phone bills."

He grinned and she giggled, then tried to be serious again.

Seeing her trying so hard not to smile as her eyes started to water, he smiled himself and traced her chin with his finger.

"…it has been hell for me here without you," he said softly. "If you'll have me, I just want to be where you are. It…it really is that simple."

"'If you'll have me?'" she repeated as she breathed in and shook her head, her arms flying around his neck. She buried her cold face in his shoulder.

He buried his hands in her hair and squeezed his eyes shut as she sniffled into his coat.

"Of course, ya know, I'll have to stay with you for a while," he said softly, his voice teasing. "If that's OK…"

She started laughing through her tears.

He grinned.

She nodded.

"Yes, I'll have you…with me," she whispered, her hands bracing his shoulders, her watery eyes looking into his. "I want to be with you. It really _is_ that simple."

He kissed her softly before they started walking again.

Her brain was on overload, still trying to process her fantasy becoming a reality. Not only did he love her - he loved her! - he was going to be with her in Tuscany.

They'd be apart only a little while.

Just a little while - not forever.

He was really going to be with her.

She glanced up at him. Her heart was bursting, completely overwhelmed - completely in love with her best friend.

"I love you, Chandler."

He closed his eyes for a brief moment, still having a hard time believing this all wasn't some dream he'd wake up from any minute now.

When he opened them again she was beaming at him.

"I love you, too, Monica."

###

"Chandler!" Rachel popped up out of her seat at the card table the minute he walked back into Apartment 19. "Did you see Monica? Did you see her before she left for the airport? Did you get to talk to her? Please tell me you got to talk to her!"

"OK," Ross said, throwing down the deck of cards he was shuffling on the table. "What's going on?"

"Yeah, Rach," Chandler said, trying his best to casually open a bottle of YooHoo from the fridge and keep the smile off his face. "Why is it _so_ important that I was able to talk to Monica?"

He failed miserably at keeping the smile off his face as he shrugged off his coat.

"Oh, you did! You did!" Phoebe said, clapping and jumping up to hug Chandler. Rachel squealed and joined the hug.

"Thank God!" Joey said, slapping Chandler on the back.

"If someone doesn't tell me what's going on right now…"

Chandler took a deep breath and turned to Ross.

"So, um…" he started, suddenly very nervous. "Here's the thing…"

Ross raised his eyebrows expectantly.

"I'm in love with your sister," he said. "I don't know how long I've been in love with her but I am and I just, I didn't realize it until she…was gone…and…"

He glanced at his friends and grinned at a clearly stunned Ross.

"…and…she…she's in love with me, too," he said, his face breaking into a huge smile.

Then he shook his head and whispered.

"She's in love with me, too…"

He turned then, and fell back on the couch as it hit him.

The emotions of the last few hours overwhelmed him all at once.

His eyes started to water as he glanced at Phoebe and Rachel. Both were already in tears.

Joey smiled excitedly as he looked at Ross, who seemed to be staring into space. His smile faltered a bit. He caught Ross' eye and gestured toward Chandler.

Chandler finally looked at Ross and cleared his throat, but he couldn't say anything.

"Dude…" Ross said, sitting down next to him, putting his hand on his shoulder. "That's…great."

"Really?" Chandler said in surprise, looking at Ross. "You really…think so?"

"Yeah, I really do," Ross said, smiling a little, looking at Rachel. "It's always great when two people realize they are in love."

Rachel smiled softly at him.

"And it explains why you two kept…popping up outside my door all upset the last two days, so it's not a complete shock," Ross said, smugly, as if he too had known for a while. "And I remember how…happy you were to see her in…ya know, that place…that…London."

Chandler chuckled.

"But…long-distance relationships aren't all they're cracked up to be," Ross shuddered. "I mean, she's in Italy…"

"And what about that job at the school?" Joey said, worriedly.

"She can leave that job behind," Rachel said with a wave of her hand, the romance of it all swimming in her mind. "I know Monica and I am _sure_ she wants to be with Chandler more than she wants some job!"

"No," Chandler said, shaking his head. "Nope, I'm not gonna let her do that."

"What?" Phoebe asked, a confused look on her face. "You're just going to…be apart?"

Chandler cleared his throat again.

He was stunned that the fact that he and Monica were in love had been met with great enthusiasm, even by Ross, but he knew this next part probably wouldn't be.

"I just called my boss and put in my two-week notice," he said, glancing at Rachel. "I'm moving to Italy."

"What?!" "Are you serious?" "Chandler!?" came the chorus.

"Look," he said over the din, standing and waving his arms, palms down, for emphasis. "Look! I have lived without this woman for almost four months and it's been the worst time in my life - the worst and, as you _all_ know, I've had some 'worst' before!"

He took a deep breath. Everyone was silent.

"I love her and I want to be with her and she wants to be with me and right now that means I go to her," he finished, finally looking at the faces of his friends. "It's Monica. This is her dream and…and she's my only dream…so I'll do it for her…for…us."

Rachel took Chandler's hand, looking at Ross, who had a huge, goofy grin on his face.

Joey and Phoebe smiled at one another.

"I bet you practically had to throw her on that plane, didn't you?" Phoebe said, grinning at Chandler.

He grinned back.

"Pretty much."

Rachel choked back tears and stroked his arm.

"This is amazing," she whispered, looking into the Chandler's eyes. "You two…you two…you're going to be amazing together. This is how it was meant to be."

He nodded, choked up again. "I think so."

"Well, this sucks," Joey whined, "but, ya know, I'm happy for you, man."

"And Monica," Rachel said, as they all gathered around for another hug.

"This is wrong, she should be here!" Phoebe said.

"If that were so we…really wouldn't be doing _any_ of _this_ at all," Chandler deadpanned.

Everyone chuckled and backed away a bit.

"You take this hug to her, OK?" Ross said, his voice thick.

Chandler nodded, tears in the back of his eyes, as they all crowded around him once again.

_**NOTE: Chandler deserved a "goodbye," too. :) Someone said they thought Mondler love would blossom in Italy - well, I know it's taken a while to get there, but pack your bags, or your eyes (whatever) because that's where we're headed. Thanks for going along for the ride! At least one chapter and an epilogue to go…**_


	19. Chapter 19

"Oh, honey, stop biting your nails," Vanessa said, grabbing Monica's wrist and moving her hand.

Monica moaned, her eyes never leaving the door.

"I can't help it!" she said, a little breathless. "I'm not going to believe he's here until he walks through that door."

Kevin chuckled at that and Monica silenced him with a classic Geller death stare. Just then the door to the gateway was opened and everything else fell away from view. Monica's eyes darted from one passenger to another as they walked by until she spotted a blue shirt and blue jeans - and his wonderful smile.

"Chandler!"

She ran the short distance between them, almost bowling him over she launched herself at him so hard.

"Umph," he exhaled, his bag falling from his shoulder as he wrapped his arms around her tight. "It's good to see you, too, Mon."

"Just 'good?'" she asked, blue eyes teasing as she leaned back to look up at him.

"No," he breathed, taking all of her in as he looked into her beautiful face and radiant smile. "It's the best thing in the world."

"It sure is," she whispered back. "I'm so glad you're finally here."

"Me, too," he smiled then captured her lips with his, the feeling of kissing her still so new that he felt a shock from head to toe. Their kiss deepened as Vanessa and Kevin observed them, both wearing silly grins on their faces.

"Let the man up for air, honey," Vanessa said after a couple moments, "and introduce us."

Chandler grinned and Monica giggled as she turned to make the introductions, arms wrapped around his waist.

"Vanessa, Kevin, this is Chandler," she said, gesturing to everyone.

"It's nice to meet you, finally," Kevin said as he shook Chandler's hand. Vanessa gave him a hug instead.

"We're less formal in Texas," she said, giving him the once over. She let out a low whistle as Kevin rolled his eyes, Monica blushed.

"Forgive her," Kevin said to Chandler, nodding his head at Vanessa. "She's been dreaming of 'Mr. Blue Eyes' almost as much as Monica the past few months."

Monica gasped and giggled, still beat red.

"What?" Chandler smiled, confused.

"It's a long story," Monica said, desperate to change the subject. "I'll tell you later."

"Oh, he's exaggeratin'" Vanessa said, playfully pushing Kevin's arm. "We're all just glad you're here, Chandler. We've never seen Monica so happy - it's been good for morale."

Chandler chuckled as he grabbed his bag again.

"Good to meet you both, too," he said sincerely. "I hear I owe you a plane ticket…"

"Nah," Kevin said, leading them to baggage claim.

"It was worth it," Vanessa agreed as they walked. She grabbed Monica's arm as Chandler and Kevin walked a few steps ahead of them.

"Happy?" she asked.

Monica just beamed, tears in her eyes.

"Sweet, smart, funny and good looking," Vanessa said, with a wink. "Better keep a close watch on him. Those blue eyes are even better in person."

"Oh don't worry, honey,'" Monica said in a bad Texas drawl that made Vanessa giggle. "I'm not ever lettin' him go."

Vanessa hugged her shoulders as they followed Chandler and Kevin to the escalator.

###

"Wow," Chandler whispered, looking up in awe at intricate painting that adorned the domed ceiling. "Just…wow."

Monica squeezed his hand and followed his eyes inside the Basilica di Santa Maria del Fiore. She was pretty sure she hadn't stopped smiling since he landed in Florence the day before. Once they'd gotten Chandler settled in Monica and Vanessa's little stone house in Florence, then the four of them had headed out for dinner and a brief tour of the area, including the culinary academy.

They'd come back to the girls' house pretty late. Vanessa took off to Kevin's "for a few days" - her little gift to the lovebirds.

Chandler and Monica had curled up on Monica's bed and started talking - about how Joey coped with Chandler leaving and about how Ross moved in with him to help with rent and get some distance from Rachel while they tried to rebuild their relationship. Chandler told her how excited his Mom was to hear that her son was moving to Italy to be with the woman he loved. "I'm sure it'll end up in a book," he'd said, rolling his eyes. Monica told him of the heart-to-heart she had with Rachel and Phoebe - and how their new relationship made the two happy and jealous at the same time.

They laughed, they kissed, they hugged and then they fell asleep nearly in mid-sentence, fully clothed in each other's arms on her little bed in the middle of Tuscany.

Monica had packed the next day full of sightseeing before she had to head back to work the following morning. They'd visited the shops on the Ponte Vecchio bridge and walked along the Arno River. Chandler could swear they toured most of Florence in one day, they'd seen so much - more sculptures and fountains alone than he could count. He had looked and listened, often with a bemused expression on his face, as Monica told him about each stop with lightning speed and so much enthusiasm that it made him giddy just to see her so excited.

And to know he was the cause of it? That was almost too much to believe.

They'd now made their way in silence to the very top of the cupola and found themselves the only two people there looking over the city. The view was spectacular - a rustic glow blanketed the buildings and houses as the sun started to descend into the sea off to the west. It was a stark contrast to the dark clouds that had pushed their way past the mountains from the northeast, threatening to open up at almost any moment.

Two forces coming from different directions ready to converge over the lights slowly flashing on in one place after another below.

"This really is the most beautiful place on Earth, Mon," he said, looking out. "I've never been anywhere like it. I don't know how you got a damn thing done the last four months."

She snorted.

"I didn't have much choice," she said, wrapping her arms around his waist and looking worriedly toward the rain clouds. He raised his hand to stifle a yawn and she squeezed him a little. "I'm sorry, I know I pushed us a lot today. There's just so much I wanted you to see and I have to work tomorrow, and I…I didn't want you to go exploring by yourself…"

And she didn't want him to explore it himself. She wanted to share everything she possibly could with him. She wanted to see Florence through his eyes, and oh, what a joy the day had been! She watched as his eyes lit up again and again every place they visited. It made her want to keep going - just to see his face and hear his observations.

And hold him close. That was absolutely her favorite part. He was there and she was able to hold his hand and feel his arms around her. He was there, for her, and every time she thought about how much he had sacrificed for them to be together she was completely overcome. She felt almost unworthy - it was like a fairytale come true.

"It looks like the rain is coming soon," she sighed, stepping away from him slightly and looking out toward the north. "The clouds just make the scenery all the more gorgeous though, don't you think?"

"Completely gorgeous," he said softly, gazing at her profile and no longer at the city below. The soft glow from the setting sun bathed her face and made her eyes sparkle against the backdrop of the dark sky behind her.

"Gorgeous," he whispered again, running his fingers along her hairline and gently sweeping a lock of hair behind her ears. "Monica…you are so beautiful…"

"Chandler…" she turned to him, tears in her eyes.

"The most beautiful sight I will ever see…"

She grabbed a fistful of his leather jacket on either side of his body and pulled him to her. How she'd never done this before she'd never know. How she hadn't kissed him in all those years she'd never understand. It was like oxygen, being with him like this, and she felt like she hadn't breathed deeply her entire life.

Surrender. That's the only word Chandler could think of to describe what he felt as they kissed, as he held her face in his hands. Complete and total surrender. Every insecurity, every wall, every doubt he'd ever had in his life crumbled under her lips, under her touch.

Their lips barely parted as they looked into each other's eyes - the need and want to be together plainly shining - blue mirroring blue.

"The rain's coming," she whispered, licking her lips. "Seen enough today?"

He grinned.

"Almost," he whispered back, his lips grazing hers.

She grinned back, blushing a little, then took his hand.

"Let's go home…"

###

The skies had finally opened up a couple streets from the house and they quickened their already hurried pace to make it inside and escape the cold rain.

They shrugged off their coats and left them in the kitchen to dry as they made their way up to her little bedroom. The doors to the small balcony were open a little, blown in by the wind that had started to pick up outside. Monica walked over to secure them, Chandler right behind her. Just as she placed her hands on the knobs to close the doors he ran his fingers through her damp hair, sweeping it to one side and then holding it in one hand. He gently tugged on it, bringing his lips to the back to her neck, as she shifted her head for him. She started trembling, doors forgotten as his mouth traveled over her and warmth seemed to break through her whole body from that one spot.

"Cold?" he whispered.

"No," she breathed, turning in his arms and running her hands from the nape of his neck up through his wet hair, kissing him deeply. Chandler found both knobs of the doors behind her and closed them against the rain.

"You're shaking…" he said, briefly breaking their kiss.

"I know," she whispered as their lips continued to connect at every other word. "I…it feels like…like…my first time."

"Are you nervous?" he asked softly, his breathing heavy, feeling a need to protect her like he never had before.

"No," she breathed as he slowly ran his fingers down the buttons of her sweater, undoing them slowly, then running his hand along her collarbone and pushing her sweater, camisole and bra strap down over her shoulder in one push.

She gasped, shrugging her shoulder free as he repeated the process on the other side.

He brought his lips to her left shoulder and gently sucked her skin. She was still trembling - she wanted him so badly she could scarcely breathe.

"I will take care of you," he said softly, brushing his lips against her chin. She whimpered as she wrapped her arms around his neck.

"You…you make me feel like a princess whose…prince has come to rescue her," she giggled a little, eyes closed. She felt him smile against her neck as his arms tightened around her.

"Really?" he said, a little smug, continuing to bathe her shoulders and neck with his lips.

She smirked a little then murmured, "um hum..."

Suddenly his mouth left her body and he picked her up in his arms. She gasped again, locking her hands behind his neck, locking her eyes with his. His dark eyes were smoldering.

He walked the short distance to the bed and laid her gently down, laying on top of her. He softly kissed her nose then looked down into her eyes.

"I wanna make you feel like a queen…"

Monica felt tears at the corners of her eyes at the look of adoration on his face. No one had ever looked at her like he was now. No one had made her just _feel_ with every fiber of her being like he was right in that moment.

"I love you," she whispered fiercely, nearly ready to break as he finally unclasped her bra.

Chandler felt like his heart was going to burst out of his chest at her words. She helped him quickly unbutton his shirt and he tore it off himself, throwing it on the floor. He moaned and she gasped as his lips found her breast. His head was spinning and his emotions were completely raw.

She was his. His.

His kissed her deeply as he laid his bare chest down on hers. Tears escaped the corners of her eyes at the contact, at the emotion, at all the love she had ever felt for him erupting like a volcano inside of her.

All the years of friendship - of caring for each other and sharing their lives and genuinely just wanting to spend time together - it all had led to this.

He felt it hit him like a tidal wave. Holding her, kissing her, preparing to make love to her felt like the most natural thing he'd ever done in his life. His lips left hers and trailed down her chest to her stomach as he undid the button on her jeans. She writhed and moaned beneath him, her fingers in his hair - making the sweetest and sexiest sounds he'd ever heard.

He pulled down the rest of her clothes and gently kissed her and caressed her, making her already aching body crazy with desire for him. Monica pulled at his hair, gasping his name.

He crawled back to her and she kissed him with a force that took his breath away. She tugged hard at his jeans and they both fumbled to get them off of him and to the floor. Chandler reached over to the dresser by the bed and opened the top drawer - grabbing a condom. He watched as Monica's eyes studied him as he rolled it on.

She licked her lips and smiled at him as he lowered his body to hers once again. He kissed her softly.

"I love you," he breathed. "All of you…all of you, Monica…I love you…"

Her entire body lurched in response to him as she dug her fingertips into his shoulders and kissed his chest.

"Love me, Chandler," she whispered, as her lips reached his neck, against his ear. "Love me now…"

He grunted, his entire body shuddering as he slowly filled her for the first time, the sensation making them both stop and stare at one another - savoring the moment, wanting to brand it on their hearts.

Chandler started to move again and she moved with him, reaching out and pulling his lips to hers, each pushing together as closely as they possibly could.

Loving each other.

###

A chill swept over the room as they laid together under the covers of her tiny bed, her head on his chest, her leg draped over his, his arms holding her close to him.

Wind had pushed open the balcony doors again, just a touch, enough that some of the rain pounding outside was leaving little puddles on the bedroom floor.

One of them could have closed the doors, closed out the cold and the rain.

But neither thought to do it - neither wanted to move.

They were both floating, reveling in the love they'd just made. The unprecedented feeling of being together for the first time overwhelming them both into a quiet peace.

After several moments of warm, silent afterglow Chandler swallowed hard.

"I was…wrong," he said softly in a hoarse voice as he turned his face into her hair, his eyes watering.

Monica lifted her head up to look at him, silent tears already streaming down her face.

"That…" he whispered, tears now escaping the corners of his eyes, "…this…"

He searched her face and reached up to brush her damp cheeks, even as she started to cry harder.

"…feels like coming home," he finished in barely a whisper, his voice cracking.

She closed her eyes and pressed her forehead against his, nodding, smiling and sobbing all at once.

"Yes…" she managed to whisper before he captured her lips and mingled their tears.

"Yes…"

_**NOTE: A deep, deep thank you to the very faithful reviewers of this story. Reviews definitely make me smile and I cherish each one. And I know a ton of you are reading and not reviewing. But, ya know what, that's OK. I just hope each person who takes the time to read these words comes away from this story with a happy heart :) Epilogue is next…**_


	20. Chapter 20

"Tell me…please," Monica pouted.

"No," Chandler chuckled, eyes remaining fixed on the task at hand.

"Oh, come on, baby," she teased, running her naked foot under his open button-down shirt, rubbing her big toe in figure eights on his chest. "I'll make it worth your while…"

"No," he groaned, trying to make his body stay in control. "You keep buggin' me and I won't do this anymore."

"Chandler…" she tried again, propping herself up on her elbows at the other end of the bed, batting her eyes.

He smirked.

"You can bat those baby blues at me all day," he said, though he felt his resolve melting. "I'm serious, I'll stop..."

"Oh, don't say that," she breathed. "I can't have you stop doing this…"

He gave her his lopsided grin then kissed her foot. He placed it on his chest and picked up the other one.

Monica moaned. She crossed her arms behind her head and laid back on the bed again - nothing beat coming home to this after a 10-hour day.

"You know, if you ever get sick of the museum you can get a job as a foot masseuse," she said, pleasure coursing through her.

"Then maybe I can be a waiter," he quipped, taking great care of to rub her aching feet, "and I can try acting while I do that, ya know, round out the circle."

She giggled.

"You're going to be a famous author, remember?" she said, her sparkling eyes peeking up at him.

Surrounded by some of the most inspirational beauty in the world, and being completely in love himself, Chandler had started writing a novel a few months ago. He called it "historical fiction" she called it "historical romance" - and she thought it was really, really good.

If only he'd tell her if the main couple got together in the end - information he was refusing to give up despite her best efforts.

"I doubt that…"

"I don't," she said, definitively, with a smile on her lips.

He blushed a little, then reached under the pillow with one hand. He pulled out the manuscript and placed it on her stomach.

"You're done?!" she said, picking it up and starting to flip through it. "Oh, Chandler!"

"Yep," he smiled.

"Ah!" she squealed, starting to read. "This is so exciting!"

"Save it for your trip, missy," he said, taking the book from her and placing it on the bed.

"Chandler," she said seriously, propping herself up again. "If you don't send this to your mother's publisher like she asked you to, I will send it myself, I swear…"

"Done."

"Seriously?" she said, shocked and excited, a big smile breaking across her face.

"Mailed it today," he said, tickling her foot. "Can't fight both my bossy women."

She giggled and wiggled her toes.

"They're so gonna miss you at the museum," she smiled, laying down once again.

Chandler chuckled. He'd been a docent at one of the largest art museums in Florence for about three months now. It was part time - his savings remaining pretty robust since he still lived with Monica and Vanessa. The arrangement had worked out well. They worked long and hard at the academy and he didn't mind picking up the slack at the house. He'd even learned to cook a little, so the Twinkie supply would last longer. It was beneficial to everyone, and it gave him time lots of time to write.

Monica had started traveling for the academy. They'd both gone home to New York right after the new year for a week, and it had been wonderful. Everyone, it seemed, was happy for them. The Gellers even had them over to their house during the visit. It didn't escape the notice of Monica's parents that she was happier than they'd ever seen her. Judy's heart absolutely melted when she heard the whole story of Chandler leaving everything and going to Italy to be with Monica. Jack was happy to see a non-stop smile plastered on his little girl's face.

Joey and Ross shared Apartment 19 now and it worked out well. Joey was still out - a lot, and Ross was at Rachel's - a lot. Ross and Rachel were taking things slow, but they seemed happy, too. Phoebe was loving being an aunt. She was dating again and seemed to completely be back to her old self.

They all missed Chandler and Monica, but seeing them together for that week had been eye-opening, to say the least. Even Ross noted that he didn't think he'd ever seen two people more in love than his sister and his best friend.

After they got back from that trip Monica had traveled for the academy about every other week for the last several months. She was headed to Paris for two nights the next day. It wasn't easy, but the fact that Chandler was waiting for her in Florence made all the difference in the world.

"Hummm," she sighed.

Chandler smiled as he watched her face. He loved making her relax, loved that he was the one who made her feel the way she did - so happy. So loved.

So loved - exactly the way she made him feel. He could never recall a time when he was remotely as happy as he had been since he'd stepped off the plane and into this fairytale almost five months before. They'd settled into a very real routine, but some days it still felt like nothing but a dream…

"Maybe you're right," he mused with a mischievous grin while he finished up her right foot. "I could probably make some good money massaging other women's tootsies…"

Her head shot up.

"Yeah," she said, looking sternly at him. "I've changed my mind about that…"

"Have you?" he grinned, placing both her feet next to him and crawling to her.

"Yeah," she whispered, her heart beating wildly when his shirt fell open as he hovered above her. She ran her hands along his chest. "I don't want you touching other 'tootsies'…"

"Think of the deprivation," he said, brushing her cheek with his lips. "It's really not fair, if I'm as good as you say I am…"

"You are and that's too bad for them," she said, tracing his nose with her finger and giving it a gentle poke. "You're all mine…"

Chandler swallowed heavily, looking down into the face of this woman who was radiating love right back to him.

"Forever?" he whispered.

"Forever," she smiled.

His face turned serious as he looked into her eyes. He was silent and she looked back at him, questioning…

"Then," he said quietly, gently kissing her then pulling back just a touch, "marry me..."

Monica stared at him, her breath catching, her heart pounding in her ears. She froze.

"Wh…what?" she breathed, her eyes searching his face.

"Marry me."

"Chandler," she said, breathlessly, scrambling to sit up. He rocked back on his knees and took her hands in his. Her eyes filled with tears. "Are you serious?"

He smiled gently at her.

"'If you like her, if she makes you happy, and if you feel like you know her...then don't let her go,'" he said softly.

"Oh!" she gasped sharply, putting her hands to her cheeks as her tears spilled over. "That's…that's from…"

"'…Message in a Bottle,'" he grinned, "I know."

"Oh my God!" she said, jumping to her knees and hugging him tightly, arms around his neck.

"Really?" she squeaked, tears falling freely now. "Really?!"

He hugged her close then reached back and pulled her arms away from him, taking her hands once more.

"Really," he said, his own eyes misty. "I'm not saying I'm ready for babies and a minivan…yet…but this…"

He wiped her cheek with his thumb - her eyes never looking more blue than they did at that moment.

"… being with you every day, loving you every day, massaging your feet every day," he grinned and she giggled through her tears. "Yeah, I want that to be forever…"

She breathed in a shuddery breath and looked at him, studied him and all the love shining from him and her heart just ached.

Oh, God, did she _ever_ want this to be her "forever."

"Yes," she whispered, tracing his ears then stroking his jaw. "Yes, I will marry you. I will marry you!"

"Yes?!" he asked excitedly, almost to make sure he heard her right, smiling from ear-to-ear.

"Yes!" she said pulling him to her and kissing the breath right out of him as they fell back together on the bed, smiling between kisses - and started making love that they both knew would last a lifetime and then some.

###

"You got it, Monica," Rachel said, smiling, her arms around her best friend, "your rustic Italian wedding."

"Wedding scenario number 6," Monica giggled, hugging her back.

"And it was actually in Italy!" Rachel beamed. "Oh, Mon, it's all so, so beautiful…"

Monica looked out over the cascading green hills of Tuscany that rolled to the sea and sighed happily. Rachel was right, it could not have been more beautiful.

Turrico had insisted on hosting the wedding and preparing all the food, with the help of Vanessa, Kevin and the rest of the original culinary class Monica had been part of. Everyone had flown to Florence for the ceremony - including Chandler's Mom and Dad, her parents and, of course, the whole gang. Rachel, Phoebe and Vanessa all served as bridesmaids while Ross, Joey and Kevin were the groomsmen.

The weather was perfect for a mid-August wedding on the countryside. A huge, white tent was set up for the band and the feast that was to start in just about 20 minutes. Kevin and Vanessa had taken care of every little reception detail so Monica could just concentrate on being a bride - for the most part. She was pretty sure a couple times Vanessa, Kevin and Chandler were plotting to lock her in a room and keep her there until the wedding.

She giggled to herself. This day, she thought, was everything she'd ever dreamed of her whole life - she just never imaged that every single detail would really be completely perfect, up to and including the man she married.

She spotted Chandler across the hillside, deep in conversation with Ross, Nora, Charles and Turrico. He must have said something funny because he was grinning and everyone else had their head thrown back laughing. She felt a jolt of electricity from head to toe when he caught her eye and smiled. He looked so dashing in his tux that she could feel her heart race just looking at him, and she already knew she was smiling back at him.

Really, she hadn't stopped smiling in months.

Chandler said something to the others and walked across the grass to his new bride, picking up another glass of champagne as he came to her. She was an absolute vision. He truly thought he might pass out when he watched her father escort her to him before the minister. She had a simple dress of soft white lace with a lace veil that brought out all her dark, striking features. She looked every inch the Italian princess.

His princess.

"My love," he said to Monica, handing her the flute as Rachel looked on, tears in her eyes.

"Do you two have any idea how sickeningly adorable you are together?" she said, a tease in her voice.

Monica wrapped her arm around her husband's waist and smiled up at him, nodding. He winked at her as Jack and Judy made their way to the happy couple.

"Oh, this was just so lovely, dear," Judy said, kissing her daughter on the cheek as Jack shook Chandler's hand. "Though I don't know why my children insist on getting married in foreign countries."

Monica rolled her eyes and Chandler chuckled.

"At least this one was worth the trip," Jack noted.

"Thanks, Dad," said a dejected Ross, who had just joined the group.

"Well, I mean…" Jack started, flustered.

"Oh, he said the right name," Chandler interjected, trying to diffuse the awkwardness, "just not at the right time, er, to the right woman."

Rachel moved to Ross and gave him a reassuring hug.

"We're still a long way off from all this," Ross said, looking at Chandler. "I still can't believe _you_ were ready for all this."

Chandler just shrugged and kissed Monica's temple as Joey, Vanessa, Phoebe and Kevin walked up to them. Joey had his arm around Vanessa. Monica raised her eyebrows at Vanessa as she took Rachel's vacated spot next to the bride.

"I like a good rodeo once in a while," she whispered in Monica's ear, which made her laugh.

Ross leaned over to Chandler.

"Wouldn't be a wedding…" he started, quietly.

"…unless Joey bagged a bridesmaid," Chandler finished with an eye roll, giving a smirking Ross a knowing grin.

"So, can you please tell us where the honeymoon is?" Phoebe asked.

"Venice," said Nora, smiling, as she walked up between Chandler and Ross, wrapping an arm around her son, sliding it under Monica's. "He needs a little more detail for 'If You're Gone.'"

"Which has yet to make it out of the editing stage," Chandler reminded her.

"Oh, it will, honey," she said, taking a swig from her champagne flute. "Ryan said it'll be a best seller."

"Ryan?" Rachel asked.

"My agent," Nora nodded.

"That's awesome, man," Joey said, looking proudly at his friend.

"You know what's even more awesome?" Chandler deadpanned. "Having your _mother_ plan your honeymoon…"

Everyone laughed at that as Nora quietly reminded him she was also _paying_ for their honeymoon. He looked at her a little sheepishly and she gave him a quick kiss on the cheek.

"When will you come back to New York to visit?" Rachel pouted a little. "You have to come see us."

Monica and Chandler looked at each other, each wearing a soft smile, and Chandler nodded.

"Your Dad should be here, too," Monica whispered to him. Chandler glanced over his shoulder. Charles was otherwise engaged with…Dean Turrico.

He sighed and briefly shook his head, "I'll tell him later."

Monica nodded again and then turned back to the group. Everyone but Kevin and Vanessa had very curious looks on their faces - those two were grinning.

"How about the week after Labor Day?" Monica said, barely containing her smile.

"OK!" "Sure." "Great!" everyone said at the same time.

"Why then?" Phoebe asked, not missing the look that passed between the newlyweds.

Chandler and Monica's smiles grew wider.

"It takes a while to pack up your life and move to another country," Monica said, excitedly.

"Sometimes," Chandler noted.

"Yeah, sometimes," Monica agreed, grinning at him.

"What?" Rachel demanded. "What do you mean?!"

"You're coming back to New York?!" Ross said.

Monica laughed.

"We're coming back to New York!" she said with tears in her eyes.

"Are you serious?!" Joey said, excited as a little boy. "You really mean it - you're coming home?"

Chandler smiled at his friend.

"Yeah, man, we are."

Everyone crowded around the couple as hugs were exchanged and happy tears started to fall.

"Dean Turrico wants to open a small branch of the academy in New York and, well, I'll be the dean there," Monica explained. "The best part is that Kevin and Vanessa will be there, too!"

"Yeah, baby!" Joey said, shooting Vanessa his "how you doin'" grin, which made her giggle.

"Well, that makes things…interesting," Phoebe said, giving Kevin the once over, a look of surprise coming over his face until it shifted to a flirty grin.

"Dean Geller," Ross contemplated. "Not quite…ya know…_Doctor_ Geller, but still…"

"Dean Geller-Bing," Monica corrected, tilting her head back to smile at Chandler, who now stood behind his wife, arms securely wrapped around her, looking happily at his friends and family.

"Oh," Rachel said, giving them a quick hug before she ran to find some tissues in her purse. "I'm so happy you're coming home!"

Monica turned a little in her husband's embrace and looked into his dancing blue eyes, both smiling at each other.

"Wherever we are…" he started.

"…we're home," she finished. "I love you."

He gave her his lopsided grin.

"I love you," he whispered, titling his head and sealing their forever with a kiss.

**THE END**

_**NOTE: And there you have it, folks! Big shock, I like proposals - and weddings ;)! This has been a blast to write and I hope you enjoyed it. If you did, don't be shy. Let me know…please :) **_

_**Oh, and the working title for this fic was "If You're Gone." Right after I had the idea for it I heard that old Matchbox 20 song three times in one day. But the lyric that always got me thinking of our favorite couple in this story was "there's an awful lot of breathing room, but I can hardly move." That line seemed to nail it for me. **_

_**Anyway, thank you so much for your reviews, follows and faves for "Breathing Room." I have no idea when another Mondler story will come out of me and I have decided to no longer attempt to predict it. Thanks for coming along for the ride! 'Til next time… :)**_


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